Le Morte D'Hunter
by DBCommander
Summary: The brightest lights casts the longest shadows, and when that light is Beacon Academy, the shadow can be far darker than even the Creatures of Grimm. Four years prior to Team RWBY undermining a terrorist plot against Vale, a rogue Huntress set into motion a chain of events which nearly destroyed Vale. This is the story of the four heroes who rose to stop it, and saved the kingdom.
1. Trainer 1: The Sculptor

**Trailer I: The Sculptor  
**

The ear-shattering cry of a Nevermore punctuated the baying of its Beowolf cousins, as a small pack of Grimm rushed through the grey forests of Patch. The day's last rays of dusky sunlight bounced off the avian monster's wings, as it guided the rampaging procession towards a small, crumbling watch-tower, nearly hanging off the ledge, where it stood isolated along a sea-side cliff. Watching from atop the tower as the Grimm approached, a young man sat with legs dangling off the tower's edge, and his right elbow reclining against the ground behind him; his left arm extended further, lending support to the large rifle, as his hazel-colored right eye peered through the scope. His right hand was at ease, one finger gently hovering over the trigger.

"We've got a small pack coming." he signaled, briefly looking away from the oncoming Grimm as he turned to face a group of others, five in total and all of his age, who were reclining against the various objects which lay scattered about the rooftop. "And this time, they brought a dinner guest."

The first of the group to stand was a sharp-faced girl with a long, green jacket and hair-obscuring hood, who walked over and knelt next to him. Her eyes emitted a bright, yellow glow, which quickly faded away as she replied. "That's not much of a Nevermore. You've ever seen one of those giant ones before? The damn things can shoot out feathers sharp enough to piece your Aura before you knew what hit you."

"On Patch?" he asked incredulously, provoking only a shrug from her. He turned back to his sights to monitor the oncoming horde, before adding, "Be serious, Arlette. There aren't going to be any giant Grimm around with Signal Academy so close. Remember the stories about six years ago, when the Professors cleared the island of Death Stalkers?"

"Clancey, there are Grimm bigger than that in the Emerald Forest, and that's sitting right next to Beacon. I don't think Grimm are even smart enough to plan out their neighbors, nor do I think they care. I'm not even sure if they do much planning or caring."

"So what? The Emerald Forest's a lot bigger than Patch is. It's hardly the same amount of ground to cover."

"Be that as it may, these are Hunter's in training we're talking about. If they're as effective at clearing Grimm as you think, they only excuse for having any there is if it was wanted. My sister hinted that Beacon uses the Emerald Forest as training, so do you really think the Headmaster would purposefully send students rushing to their deaths?"

"Probably. You know you're not going to win this one, right?"

"If you'd just quit being stubborn about these things, it would be a different story."

"Hey, kids," called a voice from behind; one of their fellow students, sitting on a heavy supply crate as he polished his already well-shined dagger. "Why don't you stop talking about the monsters and just take them out? Just remember to leave a few for the rest of us."

"Don't blame us if we don't. It's hardly our fault the rest of didn't bring your main weapons." Arlette replied, giving a slight smirk. "Seeing as this is our final mission at Signal, one would think getting in just a _little_ practice would be useful. Wouldn't you?"

"Hey, you're the one who said it; there's not a Grimm on this island dangerous enough to warrant foldable frames. It's like you don't even want a challenge!"

"Hold up." Clancey said, as he stood up quickly. Unlike Arlette, who wore rather light attire, his equipment incorporated a blend of light clothing and armor plates; he wore a bronze cuirass over his red tunic, the color closely matching his hair, along with pauldrons and a pair of thick, white gloves. His most distinguishing feature was the cloak he wore, which matched his gloves in color; yet rather than allowing it to drape, he had wrapped it about his shoulder and torso, so as to cover his left arm with just enough slack to provide full mobility, whilst obscuring much of his torso.

"The Grimm are gone. Even the Nevermore. How does a Grimm that big just vanish? The trees aren't even that thick!"

At those words, the rest of the students began to stand up, walking over to the edge to join him and Arlette on watch. Sure enough, there were no signs of the Grimm. One of students began fidgeting, before saying, "I don't like this. There's no such thing as invisible monsters. Right?"

"Maybe they're hiding?" another suggested.

"Why would Grimm hide?" Clancey asked. "So they can ambush us? I've never heard of one being that smart. Though, if they did wish to do so, they'd be coming from..."

He looked about the area below the tower, scanning the treeline. Finally, he pointed to three spots. "There, there, and there. Those are the best places to attack from, if they had any sense of strategy. But we're not talking about much more than animals."

"Yeah, animals with giant spikes on them." replied the frightened student. Arlette shook her head and glanced at him, before saying, "Calm down. It's said fear is what attracts."

"What do you mean, fear?" he said, with a nervous chuckle. "I'm not scared. I'm not every worried. I'm absolutely terrified! This is the first time I've seen a monster outside of the training grounds."

Clancey continued standing, and began to pace about with rifle in hand, returning to the scope occasionally in order to scan the treeline, and the forests beyond. He scowled, and began to tap his foot. Another student stepped from behind him, and extended a spyglass so he could stare out into the forest. After a moment, he pointed into the woods, and called out, "Hey! I think I saw something over there."

Sure enough, it was movement; and, to Clancey's surprise, it was movement in exactly one of the areas he indicated. The seconds began to drag by as he continued watching, the movements giving rise to the appearances of more and more Grimm, all hiding away in the three points he had noted; one rocky, the other two thick with foliage. Had he not thought to check the rocks, he doubted he would have even seen them there.

"Ooh... now that's unusual." he muttered. As he did so, the student with the spyglass put it away, replacing it's spot with a nasty looking battle-axe; Clancey held up his hand, signaling him to hold. "Never seen hungry Grimm waiting like this before. Especially not... no, that's ridiculous."

"_Could they really be strategizing?" _he thought to himself. _"It's almost as if they're trying to lure us out. Trying to flank us? Next thing we know, they'll be talking; maybe even drawing weapons. Now wouldn't that be a sight to see?"_

Arlette reached down and drew out a long, shining sword, which began the process of unfolding itself into the form of a stringless bow before she had even finished pulling it from the sheath. She reached down into a small satchel which rested at her hip, and withdrew from it a small pinch of dust. With that same hand, she made the motion of pulling back a bow string; as she did, the dust in her hand began to glow, causing both a string and a golden arrow to form into existence. "We have the defensive advantage," she said. "So let's put it to use."

Nodding, Clancey lifted up his rifle, before adding, "The rest of you, get ready. They're not going to stay put for long once they realize we're onto them."

Weapons were drawn quickly. The frightened student withdrew a spear, the spyglass carrier continued to heft his axe, the cocky one from before twirled a pair of daggers, and the fourth carried only a simple staff. Clancey nodded at Arlette, and took aim at his own targeted; a Beowolf, crawling between two rocks.

"Now!" he cried, and their shots were loosed; the Beowolf fell dead, a dust round shredding its face; not far off, a massive surge of electricity sent a cluster of three of them flying away, whilst triggering another to come racing out of the rocks. There was a shriek from somewhere the woods, which was all it took to send more Beowolves surging from the rocks; charging towards the tower.

Dust lit up the night sky as the pair kept firing; arrows formed of raw elemental power swept up whole clusters in one strike, while those who escaped destruction were quickly picked off by pinpoint rifle shots. As more of the pack came rushing from the woods, Clancey turned and pointed to the other students, saying, "Looks like it's your guys' turn to have fun."

The group nodded, before leaping off the tower's edge. The dagger-wielder was the first to land, as a white flash suddenly carried him directly out of the air and onto the back of one of the Grimm, his blades already embedded in its skull even before he finished materializing. The others chose their own patterns for reaching and dealing with their foes; a swipe of an axe decapitating two in one blow, a kick delivered by pole-vaulting off a spear in a Grimm's head, or a simple whirlwind of crippling blows from a quarterstaff.

"Arlette, target the woods." he said, pointing to the spot on the treeline where few of the suspected Grimm had emerged. She nodded, and fired two arrows in quick succession; the first, glowing red, set off a massive flash of fire which brought out both howls, and charging Grimm; before the flames could spread, a white arrow hit dead center, releasing a blast of wintery cold which froze over the trees, as well as a collection of frozen Grimm; not simply Beowolves, but an Ursa as well.

"Looks like there may be more than we expected." she said, her eyes once more emitting a golden glow as she spoke to Clancey; as he turned to her, he noted, not for the first time, the golden feathers which seemed to trail off behind her as her semblance was active. "Should we join in on the fun below?"

"Of course." he replied, his rifle unfolding into the form of a long claymore. "After you?"

"I wouldn't impose." she replied. "Besides, you're far less useless down there."

Giving a quick laugh, Clancey nodded, and jumped off the rooftop. His initial target was a large Ursa which had now joined in from the woods; with ricasso in one hand and hilt in the other, his blade was primed to deal a single, penetrating blow to the beast. So focused was he on that objective that he failed to hear Arlette cry, "Look out!" as, from the side, the missing Nevermore slammed into him, knocking him off of his path and sending him falling.

Immediately upon striking the ground, Clancey dived into a roll and stood up quickly. He was a good distance from the other students, and in the current lighting, all he could see was the flashes of light from the tower above. That, and the Nevermore, which had now turned back around, and came flying at him once more.

With a grin, he unfolded his weapon into a third form; that of a long, two-pronged spear. While one of the blades initially appeared thin, it was rapidly brought to completion, as a green energy blade ran alongside it. Pulling back, as with a javelin, he shot the blade forward; the energy blade exploded into a burst of green dust, creating a small whirlwind and launching the spear forwards. As he failed to let go, the weapon carried him along for the ride.

The Nevermore swerved as he shot towards it, but Clancey was ready; twisting his body, he managed to redirect the self-propelled spear, causing it to drive itself downwards, and into the Grimm's back. The monster shrieked as the blade penetrated it's armor-like feathers, but proved far too large to be defeated with a single thrust.

The beast began jerking with wild abandon, attempting to sweep by the tower in its attempts to dislodge the unwelcome rider. Gripping his spear as tightly as he could, Clancey ducked past the incoming barrier; as the bird continued on, he shouted to Arlette, "Cover the others! I've got this one!"

Having said that, Clancey flicked upon the action of his weapon, ejecting a single round into his hand. Quickly, he ran it across the part of the spear blade which still stuck out from the Nevermore, revealing the dust within; however, in the dark, he could not identify the color. Grinding it up quickly in his gloved hand, he hoped for the best, and threw the cloud of dust upwards.

The thunderclap which followed was preceded by a sudden bolt of lightning, which struck down from the skies, and struck the tip of the spear. Electricity ran through both Clancey and the Nevermore, causing the bird to twist in mid-air and crash-land, digging a small trench as it skidded through the soft dirt. Clancey was sent flying, and hit the ground rather unceremoniously.

It took a few moments for him to come back to his senses; when he finally did, he found himself crawling on the ground, his weapon a few yards off, and with the Nevermore slowly recovering. Behind him was the edge of the cliff, which had very nearly gone tumbling off of. He stood up quickly, grabbed his spear, and collapsed it back into claymore form. As the beast stood, he charged forwards, pulling his blade back and downwards quickly with his right arm, whilst grasping the ricasso with his left; he thrust the blade upwards, and into the massive Grimm.

Not intending to go down so easily, the Nevermore lunged forwards, its wings beating as it attempted to take off. But Clancey moved to quickly, and his blade connected, penetrating upwards through the bottom of the bird's skull, and all of the way through its head. Yet slaying the beast was not enough to stop momentum from carrying it forwards. Realizing his proximity to the cliff, Clancey anticipated what was coming next. He braced himself, and easing the Grimm into him, and closed his eyes. Together, the two went tumbling off the edge; a red glow formed around him, leaving the crimson, flowing mane of a lion trailing behind.

His eyes opened once more, and he reached out to the dying Nevermore as it began trailing away into black mist. Upon making contact with his hand, that mist shifted to a radiant white hue; where once there had been a dying Nevermore, there was now a shimmering white eagle, which snatched him in its talons, and safely return him to the edge of the cliff.

That same red mane continued to surround him as he looked across the battlefield. A pair of Beowolves came rushing for him as he stood, recovering. With a quick motion of his hand, he directed the eagle towards them. It collided with the two, striking them both dead as it shattered into streams of fading light.

His aura returning, Clancey, now prepared, took his weapon in hand, and advanced towards the battlefield, to join the rest of the students as they mopped up the remaining Grimm.

* * *

"What do you mean, Mistral?"

The battle was over. Grimm lay dead, scattered across the base of the tower; their bodies steadily dissolving into nothingness. Two of the students lay injured on the ground, while a third had been knocked out cold by an Ursa. Clancey, though mostly unharmed, was completely exhausted as he asked that question; and while visibly the best off of the group, Arlette nevertheless appeared far from fine as she answered it.

"It's not something which I have much of a say in." she replied. "It was my family's decision. With groups like the White Fang becoming so active here in Vale over the last year, they've decided it was best if..."

Clancey simply nodded, sitting himself down on the decomposing form of a Beowolf. "... if you weren't here? I understand."

"For all we know, it could be years." she said, giving a shrug. "Honestly, even with some of the violence, it's been mostly humans. I can't imagine Faunus rights groups ever posing a danger. It's not like they're going to start raiding shops or robbing trains; a few muggings is the most I'd expect. And from what I heard, Atlas has received the worst of problems anyways."

"If it makes you even the least bit safer, it's worth it." he replied, after giving it a few moments. "Besides, Haven's a fine academy. Heck, you'll probably have a shot at top in class there, eh?"

"Hah hah. Very, very, funny." she replied, rolling her eyes. "Sanctum's not much different than Signal, so I can't imagine the environment at Haven will be too different from Beacon... just with less friends around, I suppose."

"There's always a chance we'll meet up at a tournament or something." he said. "Then it'll be just like the old times again." With that, he sighed, and stood up, so as to look off into the forests.

She reached behind her hood, and gave a quick yank, before pulling out a long, brownish feather. She opened his hand and placed the feather within, before closing it. "For friends left behind."

They stood for a while longer, watching as the shattered moon rose in the western skies, and showered Patch in a cascade of pale light. The group spent the rest of the evening tossing Grimm corpses off of the ledge, before finally returning to the tower and setting up watch for the night. When dawn came, they returned to Signal Academy for the last time.

_**Finish: The Sculptor**_

_**Next Up: The Painter**_

**A/N (EDITED IN): I think it's appropriate, three trailers in that, I explain something. I started writing this story back in late December, as an attempt to work on my writing. This was when Trailer 1 was initially made, and the initial story plans were drafted. I've done fanfiction before, on other websites and under different names; however, it was years ago, and I never finished my main projects. Despite having the four trailers made fairly early on, I was held off from posting out of fear of not completing whatever I was working on. However, after the passing of Monty Oum, I made the decision that I would see this one through, and do it until the end. Fear should never be something to stop you from doing what you love.  
**

**I've been releasing the trailers as I've had time to proofread them. At this moment (having just posted Trailer 3), number 4 is fully proofread, and Chapter 1 is complete; it is also significantly better written, in my opinion, than the trailers. Because of this, I've attempted the same thing as the main show; you can start reading at Chapter 1 without needing the trailers, though certain things will not be explained. Also, because I have a distaste for written descriptions of characters, the Trailers will probably be the only place that the main four are ever described in full.**

**To put out some of my plans before-hand: The goal is a four-year plan, covering the leads through their four years at Beacon Academy; the year after that would be the start of RWBY itself. The process of Initiation and the school setting means there will be some overlap, especially for the first few chapters. Over the time of writing this fanfic, I hope to set a very distinct identity for both the story, and for the characters themselves.**

**Thank you for reading, and I look forward to writing for you!**


	2. Trailer 2: The Painter

**Trailer II: The Painter  
**

"And the winner of the 47th Annual Vacuo speed-painting competition is... Neven Verde!"

The painting was a beautiful work of art, if perhaps relatively mundane in its subject matter. Throughout the rest of the week, Neven often returned to it, stared at it, and contemplated everything which had led to its creation. The years theme had been a perfect one for him; "the beauty of effort." Naturally, his painting was a picture-perfect recreation of his competitors, as each worked on their own pieces, as from the perspective of one staring down the line. It was impressive not only for its artistic merit and skill, but also for its speed, which had left all previous record-holders in the dust.

Of course, the whole affair left some people suspicious. While none could deny his skills, prior to this day, Neven had never been considered anything more than a somewhat skilled painter when it came to improvised work; that, combined with his choice to work only while the proctor was occupied with other artists, made his new-found talent all of the more mysterious.

A week had passed since then, and Neven stood alone, carrying nothing more than a large book in his hands, on the docks of Vacuo. He was a simple looking boy; plain red shirt, surprisingly tidy blue jeans, a tan travel pack, and an overall plain appearance which easily blended into the crowd. He was marked only by his distinctively green eyes, and the dirty blonde hair so characteristic of his country.

The minutes seemed to flash by. One moment, there on the docks. The next, on one of the ships. The next, standing on the balcony, as the vessel achieved lift from the water's surface and began to rise. His only possession remained his pack and book, as he looked down from a balcony, to the great waiting hall which dominated the central portion of the vessel.

He reached into his pack and pulled out a small letter, dated a number of months back, which read quite simply:

_To the Prospective Student, Mr. Neven Verde:_

_Despite your late submission of forms, you have been accepted into Beacon Academy. The _

_faculty would like to make note that your tardiness very nearly cost your admission, and were it_

_not for the transfer a Signal Academy graduate out-of-kingdom, you would have been dropped from_

_the waiting list. This is a rare opportunity, so prove that it was in fact earned, and not merely  
_

_lucked into._

_We look forward to seeing your attendance at the start of the next semester. Please send any _

_living materials in advance, and take with you only vital equipment such as your weapon, combat _

_attire, and anything else required for living. You will be greeted upon your arrival in Vale, and _

_provided sufficient living space for up to one week in advance of Initiation Week._

_**On Behalf of the Beacon Staff**_

_Glynda Goodwitch_

He fidgeted quite a bit as he stood there, before he quickly folded the paper and put it away. He then directed his gaze to the people below. It was, truly, a beautiful sight to behold; all of the faces, the colors, and the expressions of individuality striking out from the formless mass. Yet as he continued watch, he noticed something which seemed off. An elderly couple, relaxing by the window, and a young boy, perhaps a couple of years older than him and significantly taller; the boy slipped quickly past them, and, unnoticed by everyone except Neven, snagged a purse belonging to the woman. With a nonchalant expression, he wandered off as if nothing had happened.

Neven raised an eyebrow, and faint wisps of energy, matching to the primary colors, began to float away from him. As he watched the boy wander off, he himself turned from the balcony, heading down the stairs and into the halls below.

When he got there, he found himself there just in time to see his quarry turning around a corner. With a casual air about him to match the boy's, he followed, and slowly began to gain some ground. Finally, after turning yet another corner, he found the boy reaching into the purse, and attempting to withdraw something. Neven gently rapped his hand against the wall, calling attention to himself; the boy was startled, but when he saw who it was that had found him, he seemed to relax.

"What are you doing here, kid?" the boy asked. "Shouldn't you be off playing some games in the arcade? Or... reading that book, or something. Kid things."

"I just like wandering the halls. You?" he replied.

"Heh... trying to get back into... my room. Damn this keycard..."

"Usually, I just carry mine on me. Most people who have pants pockets generally do. Though I suppose I don't usually carry a purse either." he said, giving a slight chuckle. "No offense, of course. It's not up to me to judge."

"It's not mine..." came the boy's irritated reply. "Damnit!" he cried, throwing the purse down.

"Not yours?"

"Yeah, not mine. It's... my mother's."

"Your mother?"

"Yeah, my mother. What, you don't have a mother? Look, just beat it already."

Neven instead came closer, approaching the wall next to the boy. "Of course I have a mother." he replied, now putting his hand to it. "And a father, though that's pretty much a given. They used to be Hunters, back in the day. Saving the world from monsters, up until they retired to the academy, and became teachers. But you know what always perplexed me about their words? That more often than not, the job put's you at odds with other people. Not just monsters."

The boy began to rub his neck and glance past Neven, while slowly backing away. As he did so, Neven advanced, turning about the corner and dragging his hand along the wall. Where once there had been simply blank, cream-colored space, an imaged had now formed – a picture-perfect replica of the thievery taking place, as seen by Neven just a few minutes earlier. The faint wisps of color began to vanish from his eyes, as he turned to the boy, book still held firmly in hand.

"You should take that back now, I think." he said, in a calm, pleasant tone. "Stealing someone's property is bad enough. But from the elderly, in plain sight? Why would anyone do such a thing?"

The boy, knowing the gig was up and that he was backed into a corner, was forced to make his fight-or-flight choice; having heard the threats, he went with the former, and advanced upon Neven. "And how, exactly, do you plan on doing something about that?" he asked. "Even if your parents really are Hunters, as unlikely as it sounds, so what? You're not; you're just a kid."

"So you're not just gonna give the bag back?" Neven asked, putting on a show of seeming confused.

"Who cares about the stupid bag? You shouldn't have followed me here, let alone been watching people, you creep. And you're going to take that threat back, right now. Because if you don't, then I'll give you something to feel threatened by."

"Just do it, then." was all Neven said, shrugging his shoulders.

The thief pulled back with his fist, and delivered a quick and powerful jab directed to Neven's face. But Neven was far quicker, and easily raised the book in hand to catch the incoming blow. Before his opponent could launch another attack, Neven delivered a retaliatory uppercut, clocking the boy in the face and forcing him to stumble back.

As his opponent fell back, Neven opened the book. The boy lunged forward once more, as the book unfolded into the shape of a large shield, with a marigold emblazoned upon its front. The would-be-thief had no way of stopping himself from colliding directly into the shield, with Neven adding his own weight to make a bashing attack; the boy was knocked aside, with a large bruise across his face.

For a few moments, he lay there on the ground, stars dancing about his head. What shocked him back into reality was the _thump_ of the purse he had stolen striking the ground next to his face.

"Don't worry, it's only a few light bruises. I'm only a kid, after all."

* * *

Once more, Neven stood atop the balcony, and watched as a new event took place. The thief once more was present, now returning with bag in hand to the elderly couple. The guilt was obvious in his eyes, as well as the embarrassment, as he spent some time discussing with them. As far as he could determine, the couple seemed to be quite forgiving.

He smiled, and returned to surveying the whole area. In only a few hours, they would be landing in Vale; after that, to Beacon Academy. But where to go from there?

The trip was only a few hours, but that thought would keep him up at night for the next week.

_**Finish: The Painter**_

_**Next Up: The Writer**_


	3. Trailer 3: The Writer

**Trailer III: The Writer**

"_Orange rays of light passed through shattered, stained glass, creating a cascade of brilliant colors which reflected all about a crumbling, gothic-styled church. Around it, withering flowers gave a sickly look, and the dead grass and trees fueled a sense of foreboding all who looked upon the once grand structure; the gravestones littering around it, most seemingly recent, only added to the effect._

_A lone figure approached the temple on this dawn; a young woman, who walked almost casually as she passed by the old building. By all appearances, she was a work of pure art; long, unkempt brown hair framed her beautiful, pointed face, and her matching eyes carried a sense of determination and power as they looked about the area. More distinctive was her clothing; a violet jacket worn over a light blue undershirt, with pants matching the later, gloves matching the former, and both boots and a backpack which seemed meant to complement her striking eyes._

_To further complement her, she carried an enormous rifle, doing so in such a nonchalant manner that she barely seemed to be aware of its presence. But surely, such an opinion would not be held by those who saw it!_

_As she neared the old monument, she stopped, hearing a growl come from within the temple. Suddenly, dozens of..."_

Violet set down her pen, looking with disdain at what she had written so far. Speaking to no-one in particular, she asked, "What sort of Grimm would hide in an old church?"

There came a knock on the door, and she spun her chair around quickly, so that she could face the well-dressed man entering into the room. "Miss Jardine, there is a visitor here to meet with you on the lower floors. It is regarding your future education, I believe."

A grin broke out over her face, as she quickly clapped her hands over her head, and jumped from her seat with joy. A quick change of shirts, along with throwing on a jacket, and she now very much resembled her literary self-portrait; of course, without the embellishments of fantasy, it was quite clear that her own opinion of her appearance was not fully grounded in reality. Further, she had neglected to mention the symbol of a grapevine which dominated the back of her jacket.

The size of the rifle, on the other hand, was quite accurate; so, too, was the almost careless way she carried the dangerous weapon. As she passed the butler, he quickly added, "Oh, and I would suggest Beowolves. You will, of course, default to using them regardless."

She gave a playful punch to his shoulder, along with flashing a smile, as she said, "Oh, I'm sure the whole world's just as swarming with them as my stories. I'm just hoping at Beacon, I'll get to deal with bigger things. Maybe some Ursa?"

As she skipped along, the butler gave sighed, and muttered something she couldn't hear. While the intonations seemed almost mournful, Violet neither caught what the words were, nor gave them much thought. It was probably just more teasing, anyways.

While it might have been far easier to simply descend the two flights of stairs which led to the ground level of Chateau Jardine, Violet instead opted to grasp one of the support beams along the balcony and slide down, bracing her knees to land gently on the floor below. The room in which she now stood was immense, with great portraits hanging on the wall, and various furnishings which in any lesser room would have made the place feel cramped. Here, it seemed only appropriate.

She wandered down an adjoining hallway, and from there, turned into a smaller room which had the word "Visitor" etched into the wood hanging above the door. Yet all sense of a carefree nature was dismissed when she entered the room, and saw its occupants; her mother, wearing a traditional black suit and grim face, sitting alongside a man she had never seen before. He wasn't particularly tall, most certainly overweight, and by virtue of both his wrinkles and impressive mustache, of some age; he wore a formal, burgundy-colored suit which wouldn't look out of place at a military function, as well as matching boots. While the overall effect was a stern appearance, Violet couldn't help but feel there was something more than that.

"Sit down, Violet." her mother said, prompting her to take the nearest seat across the table. She folded her hands over her legs, and patiently awaited whatever was coming next. After she did so, her mother nodded, and indicated the man sitting next to her.

"Violet, this man is Professor Port, one of the most distinguished professors at Beacon Academy. He is here on his own time for your benefit, so please try to avoid causing any problems. I expect to receive only positive feedback. Understood?"

She nodded back, prompting her mother to say, "Good. Now, Professor, I must once again offer my apologizes, but I have an important meeting with the Council in just one hour. We wouldn't want the police to remain under-equipped, now would we?"

"Why of course not, my good lady! No Huntsman would ever allow such an inexcusable breach of security. Go forth! Do what you must do! Your daughter will be in safe hands."

"I'm quite sure. Thank you for your understanding." she replied, standing up, and shaking his hand curtly. She looked at Violet for a moment, gave a short nod, and then walked out, leaving a deathly silence to hang over the room. The door slid closed behind her.

Once her mom was gone, Violet shattered the momentary calm by bursting out, "So you're really a Huntsman? What's it like? How big are Grimm really? How many have you killed?"

"My dear child, patience!" he replied, seemingly taken aback, if somewhat amused. "Fret not, young one. Your questions will all be answered at Beacon."

The professor picked up a piece of paper which sat on the table, before adding, "Though based on these extraordinary transcripts, there is no doubt that your education has been sufficient."

She perked up as he said that, before saying, "Well, you know... there are some advantages with more private educations."

He gave a chuckle. "Indeed there are. Of course, before we can formally accept you into the prestigious Beacon Academy, there are a few concerns which must be addressed."

As her face fell, he continued. "While your classes themselves show masterful performance, your the private administration of your entrance exams, which are the true mark of an inductees combat expertise, calls into question the validity of your claims."

"In most cases, we would simply trust the scores alone. But Beacon is no normal school, and the life of a Huntsman or Huntress is as dangerous as it is glorious, and certain members of faculty are less than eager to admit a student without first verifying their capabilities."

He stood up, and beckoned Violet to follow. As they walked, he began to carry on about his days as a Huntsman, describing in great detail his former team's liberation of a small village far to the south from an oncoming horde of Grimm. While at first, she listened quite intently to his tale, her mind eventually began wander as his embellishments became increasingly grand, culminating in him becoming disarmed, and employing a King Taijitu as a replacement weapon.

"Ah, and here we are." he concluded, breaking her away from her day-dreams, and causing her to look ahead. They were now standing in front of the theater, a rarely used part of the estate. The professor opened the door, allowing her to step inside.

The theater was large; roomer now, in fact, than before, as the seats were all down into the floor, leaving only the support pillars. The ceiling was opened, allowing the early morning sun to shine downwards. There was, however, something new – the large cage which dominated the far end of the room.

"This shall be a test of your skills in combat." he told her. "Fight with honor. Fight with purpose. Fight with the true spirit of a Huntress!"

The cage violently shook, and a roar came from within. Brilliant red eyes shone from the dark, as whatever was in the cage began to throw itself against the bars.

Violet smiled eagerly. "Ooh! Is it a real Grimm? What kind?" she asked. Her eyes lit up quickly, and she immediately reached behind her, grasping her rifle.

"There is only one type of Grimm." he replied, walking boldly to the cage. With a single motion, he pulled out what appeared the hybrid of a blunderbuss and an axe, and raised it high above his head. Carefully, he stepped back, moving closer to the chain which held in place the mechanism sealing the cage door closed. He held up his free hand as she approached, causing her to stop.

She cocked her head. "What do mean, only one type of Grimm?"

A great laugh roared from his chest at that question. After a few seconds, he answered, "The only type of Grimm, is **prey!**"

With that, he swung the axe head down, severing the chain, and causing the cage doors to swing open. What stepped out was a massive Beowolf, larger than any Violet had ever seen. The massive, spiked creature easily dwarfed her, and only seemed to be growing larger as it pulled itself out of the cage.

"Dammit." she muttered. "I really want to see an Ursa."

The creature roared, standing tall for a moment before going on all fours, seemingly sizing her up as it approached. Her eyes narrowed, and she gave a loud growl of her own, before smiling again and proclaiming loudly, "You don't know who you're messing with, do you?"

At that, the creature roared, and lunged towards her. She turned her rifle forward, quickly jumped up, and fired, sending her flying back and away just as the monster swung. To her surprise, the creature seemed unfazed by the attack; the shot was deflected easily, and left only a small crack in the beasts' armor.

Once more, the creature stood up, showing its more exposed chest. Violet delivered three shots in quick succession, forcing the creature back. Catching the hint, the creature lowered itself to a more defensive stance, before charging once more.

Violet attempted the same tactic for evasion as the last time, but this time, the monster didn't stop; instead, it kept charging at her, swinging its claw at her, and throwing her far across the room, and into one of the support beams.

She began standing, as the beast approached her. No longer smiling, she looked on with anger, and a small amount of fear. Could simple animals really learn so quickly? The Beowolf, for its part, seemed to be enjoying the emotional state it was created; it slowly stalked towards her, moving back and forth in a circular path, as though it enjoyed simply watching her.

"Not attacking while you had a chance is the last mistake you'll ever make." she growled, as she flipped a switch on her rifle. In one rapid motion, the frame unfolded, transforming the weapon into a nasty-looking lochaber axe.

The beast charged, swinging at her with its massive claw, in an attempt to strike her down. As it did so, her hand shot up. A horrible, otherworldly screech echoed through the room, and a violet glow filled the air, as a small, black crack appeared; the claw went through, vanishing for a split second, as another tear ripped through the air near the beasts neck. As the Beowolf made contact with itself, it was thrown rather violently to the side; its arm was pulled out along with it, with the rift sealing in the absence of a physical presence.

With a shout, Violet swung her weapon at the creature; in one clean blow, she severed the giant Beowolf's arm flying from its body, with a great flash of purple light flaring from the open wound. As the creature gave a stunned look at its missing limb, she swept downwards, delivering a powerful finishing blow. The Grimm's head went flying, as her weapon was embedded into the floor.

For a moment, all was quiet. After two great heaves, she managed to wrench her axe from the ground. Then, came the slow clapping, as Port approached her.

"Excellent performance, Miss Jardine!" he said, patting her on the back, as she wiped sweat from her brow. "Indeed, your tenacity and skill in battle reminds me of my younger days, all of those years ago. Ah, that fight brings back memories, of that time when I..."

"So am I accepted?" she asked quickly, interrupting him with a brilliant grin on her face. "That was the test, right? Kill the monster?"

While he did seem somewhat hurt to have his story broken off, Port said nothing of it, instead continuing on by saying, "Your combat abilities are sufficient. However, you must realize that killing one monster does not a Huntress make. You have a long way to go before you will be ready to face the Grimm infested areas of Remnant."

He paused, and her head dropped. "Regardless of that, your enthusiasm, dedication, and performance have earned you my final approval."

Eyes alight, she immediately lunged and hugged the professor, crying out, "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Just as quickly, she stepped back, her body almost shaking with joy. No more staying at home, no more boring tutors... she would be hunting monsters, saving the world, being a hero!

Demonstrating an uncanny quickness when not being observed, Port had already reached the exit by the time she was done. "Don't just stand about, dear girl. Initiation Week begins in just five days."

It was the longest five days of her life.

_**Finish: The Writer**_

_**Next Up: The Orator**_

**A/N:** **So, the first actual instance of a character who isn't an OC. I think I presented Port at least passably, but it just doesn't seem to give off the right vibe to me. That's just a matter of personal taste. This being here, I'll add that Violet is a matter of some worry for me, as a character. The name's hardly original, both within the RWBY Fandom and others, so I can definitely see readers being put off by that. At the same time, it felt like pushing for another "V" name on her character would have just been... too "special" sounding, I suppose? I suppose time will tel whether my worries are actually founded, or just me stressing the small stuff.**

**A small note, in case this was missed; I altered by writing style a small amount for Violet's opening sequence. There are more than a few intentional mistakes within it for that reason. Of course, any other mistake in the story is probably because I'm a far better story planner than I am a proofreader.  
**


	4. Trailer 4: The Orator

**Trailer IV: The Orator**

"And as you can imagine, Grimm in the middle of our city is the last thing we want."

There was chuckle in the audience. For the average person of Vale, today was a day no different than any other. For a student planning to attend Beacon Academy, it was a mess; the Dust shops and custom tailors were busier than any other day of the year, and at least one accidental explosion had already occurred on the ports. It was the day of days: the day before Initiation Week.

But for Susana Tiagris, one of those students, the day was exceptionally important. It was the final competition of the Signal Debate Team which she would ever participate in, and she was intent on winning it.

This being a competition between schools, formal attire had been required. Of course, for most, that meant putting on a suit and tie. For Signal, it meant full combat uniform. In contrast to many of her fellow students, the fact that she was traditionally armored was quite apparent; her shoulders and legs were thickly armored, as was the chain shirt which could be seen through her orange tabard, upon which was sewn the image of a lily flower. A white belt wrapped about her waist, matching to the colors of her boots, pants, and long-sleeved undershirt.

Most importantly for this date, though, was her face, which portrayed a great deal of hardening uncharacteristic of youth. Her harsh features were accentuated by her straight, black hair; and her blue eyes, which darted between members of the audience and her competition as she spoke. Today, the bags which hung under them could be clearly noted.

"But that is where my opponent begins to err." she continued, looking over the crowd. "For this is a city defended by Huntsmen and Huntresses, and it has always been so. Indeed, to restrict that same defense to the city of Vale alone would ignore the rest of the kingdom, and the surrounding territories, which are just as well protected."

"So while mechanical drones are surely a wonderful idea, what good is a whole squadron of robotics, mowed down by a single enraged Ursa, when a dozen such beasts could be culled by a single well-trained Huntress?"

There was some clapping from the back as she closed her line. The proctor flopped over to her opposition; a well dressed boy, clearly from one of the wealthier private institutions of Vale, and with an almost foppish look about it. Adjusting his mic, he prepared his rebuttal.

"What is the most dangerous profession in Vale?" he asked rhetorically, looking around. Quickly, he answered it, saying, "To be a Hunter, of course. In this day and age, more Hunters die or go missing out in the wilderness than anyone raised within the walls should ever have to. And far too often, among those who die are those in training. These young boys and girls are trained as child soldiers, and their lives are thrown away far too easily."

"My opponent asks why we should turn to mechanoids? Because a dozen robots can be rebuilt. But a child's life can never be returned to them."

This, too, garnered a positive response; one perhaps too positive, considering the subject matter. A quick flare of the nose shot across Susana's face, though she quickly suppressed it. The proctor turned to her, throwing up a sign that it was time for her to give her final remark.

With a crack of her neck, she glanced quickly at her opponent, before snapping back to the audience and saying, "But what of the child who was never given a choice? The Grimm do not target Hunters out of any special hatred, or anger, towards their profession; they target them because they are readily available."

"Take away the Hunters, and the Grimm will simply adapt to their new, far less efficient rivals. In time, they may even grow bolder. And what do you think the more powerful Grimm will do in such a situation? The ones who require a full team of skilled combatants to bring them down? One such beast could devastate an army of such poorly-functioning mechanoids, and singlehandedly destroy entire villages before being stopped at the city walls."

"No. Each time a Hunstman or Huntress dies, they make a sacrifice for the greater good, to prevent this from happening. A sacrifice each student, upon entering into the Academies, has made it clear that they are willing to make. They are not children; they are men and women who, even in youth, have been distinguished above all others."

"For this reason, the transition to robotic soldiers is far from desirable, and should be avoided at all costs."

A quick battery of clapping in the audience. The proctor raised his hand to calm everyone down, before turning to her opponent. He cleared his throat, and began to speak...

* * *

"Dammit all!" Susana cried out, delivering a punch which left quite an impressive dent in the alley wall.

Leaning against the wall behind her stood another student, dressed in a rather casual attire, and dressed in brilliant blue and black clothes which contrasted her bright white hair. "You done?" the girl asked, with a smile forcibly curled into a frown.

"I'll be done when I feel like it, Gwen." Susana replied, giving a wave of dismissal and continuing down the path. Two more punches met the wall, inflicting further damage to it.

"Well, you might want to make that a pretty high priority. People tend to look unfavorably on those who damage their lovely walls."

"These are alley walls."

"Eh, someone probably thinks they're lovely." Gwen shrugged as she said this, before walking over and giving a quick pat on her friends back. "It can't be that hard. The crowd found you decent enough."

"I placed second!" she retaliated, turning back quickly. "Do you know what that means? After four years – four years! – on that damn team, and I've only gotten one gold trophy. Everything else? Useless silvers and bronze!"

"So? Braith's our resident 'Queen Bitch of the Academy', and she only got... what, only seven out of her eight events? School record or whatever. You're not too far off."

"You shut your damn mouth, Gwen, or I'll shut if for you." she replied.

"The word touchy comes to mind." the girl replied with a smirk, deftly avoiding an attempted push by her friend. "But really, why bother? You're supposed to be a Huntress, not a debater."

"What's the difference? One's a duel of words, the other is with weapons. Either way, it's about putting an opponent in their place, and I obviously can't do it right!"

"If you go in with that attitude, Beacon's going to sorely disappoint you."

"Oh? This coming from the girl who barely got accepted?"

"Sometimes luck shines favorably upon you, and you just happen to get accepted into the least academically competitive year of new admits to date. Sure, other times you get gored by a Boarbatusk, but for the most part? It tends to bal-"

"You know, I bet those judges were biased against us." Susana suddenly interjected. "Yes, that would explain it. They've never much liked Signal in the first place, and I'm almost certain that Ms. Jardine works with Atlas to arm the robots. She probably just has a problem with Hunters..."

"Well that would be ironic." replied Gwen, with a bit of a smirk. She withdrew a butterfly knife, and began casually flicking it about her hand.

"Oh? In what way?"

"Didn't you hear? Her daughter's been accepted into Beacon."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Actually ran into her while I was down at _D-to-D _yesterday. Never would have figured her, if she wasn't so vocal about announcing it."

"Well, that just proves it then! She was disappointed in her daughter, so she took it out on our whole team. This is an outrage! We'll need to talk about a re-match..."

"Mmhmm"

"You know, you could be just a little more supportive. Are you honestly telling me you can't see what I am?"

"Look, Sue, it doesn't really matter. What's the point of awards? We're going to be Huntresses. You don't get medals for that sort of thing."

"Well you damn well should! Anyone who takes the fight to those damn monsters deserves a lot better than people like that prick in the dress-suit give them."

"Don't take it personally. The kid probably didn't even believe what he was arguing. It's a debate competition, remember?"

"Passion is what wins debates. If you don't believe in what you're fighting for, you can't win! No, don't try pulling that one on me."

"I thought you just said unfair judging is what wins debates?" Once more, Gwen proved just nimble enough to, rather casually, avoid a quick shove. "In any case, I'm going to have to head out. I wanted to run some weapon maintenance before the big day."

"Yeah, I got you." Susana replied. "Keep safe until then, you hear me?"

"Mmhmm."

With that, Gwen nodded, and departed back down the alleyway they come from. Susana hung around for a while, before heading the opposite direction. She recalled there being a dust shop down that way which was offering some pretty heavy discounts; while fairly independent of it herself, a few spare vials couldn't hurt.

However, as she turned a corner into a sort of double-"L" bend, she heard a drop from behind her. It was a man, wearing full black clothing with a bandana around his face, and brandishing a rather large machete in the one hand. From the rooftops came more; after a few moments, there were a good seven men standing there, including a particularly large one with a red bandana who approached her. After sizing her up, his eyes widened a bit at the mace hanging at her waist; however, that look quickly faded.

"Well, look what we have here." he said. "It's another one of those Signal brats."

"Well, look what we have here." she replied, cutting off another of the group as they prepared to speak. "More punching bags."

Some of the group gave a nervous chuckle, backing away at that statement. The red bandana, unimpressed, stayed his ground, and said, "Now, girlie, there's no need to get rude. We're not here to fight. But, see, we overhead about you being a Huntress in training, and we figured we could use some help."

"Help?" she replied incredulously.

"Sorry to give you the wrong impression." he said, as he pulled out a scroll from his pocket. On it was a picture, apparently of the sewers under Vale. More important, though, were the bright red eyes which could be seen glowing in the darkness – Grimm eyes.

"This beast recently decided it would be fun and games to wipe out half of our little sewer club. There's bodies littering the place. Of course, that's bound to happen when your weapons are ineffective... but I'm sure you're... better equipped?"

After a few moments, she asked, "And just why were you in the sewers?"

"Why would anybody concealing their face hide in the sewers?" he replied, pulling out what was clearly a giant rat's tail wrapped within his pants. "Nowhere else to go."

The sewers were brighter than one might expect. Lights of maintenance ran across the ceiling, giving a dull visibility; more so than one would expect. From a hatch above, Susana dropped down, landing quite easily on a side walkway. The Faunus with the red bandana followed down the ladder, and was in turn followed by the rest of his group. While waiting on them, she surveyed the area quite thoroughly.

"Why the lights?" she asked, as she looked up. "I didn't remember sewers having such quality lighting."

"No sense living underground without a little bit of comfort." the leader replied. "Just a bit of rewiring."

"Ah." she replied, grabbing her mace and inspecting it. "That must have taken some work."

"It's all worth it, when quality of life is on the line. Why so concerned, anyways?"

As he said that, she turned rapidly, swinging her mace. As she did so, the shaft extended, along with the chain, transforming it into an extended flail. The ball struck one of the group square in the jaw, and she quickly pulled back, taking out another with a swift blow to the back of the head. Before the group could react any further, the chain retracted, and the weapon unfolded into the shape of a shotgun.

Four quick shots, and the rest of the group was down, leaving on the bandana wearing leader, who began looking about frantically as she approached him. Once she closed in, she answered, "Because real Faunus have night-vision."

With a quick motion, she reached back and pulled at the supposed rat's tail; it came out quite easily, more like a rope than an appendage. With a smirk, she punched him in the gut, causing him to keel over, and fall to the ground.

"So, what was the plan then? Lure me further in to more of your men?"

"We're all there is..." he said, with a cough. "And sure, we might have wanted to rob you, but we needed you! I wasn't lying to you about the Grimm!"

"Yeah, giant Grimm in the sewers. How dumb do you think I am?" she asked, this time kneeing the man. "The only thing that lives in the sewers is rats, like you lot... hell, you're more like the rats than the actual Faunus are. Isn't that a sad thought?"

There was gasp from one of the better off members of the group. The others began turning, as he pointed, though Susana, thinking this must be a desperate trick, only frowned. "Really? I'm not turning my back on you that easily."

Well, whatever the trick was, they were committed. Many of the would-be-thieves, once recovering slowly, were now running down the sewers at full speed. The leader scrambled away from her, carefully at first, but then stood up and broke into a full blown sprint.

As they departed, Susana fired a few shots just past them, shouting, "Don't try this again!"

Then came the breath. Upon feeling it, she turned, and saw what could only be descried as a living nightmare. It was a massive rat, with a white mask marking it as none other than a real, living Grimm. She could see behind it a large, armor plated tail; coming out from all over its body were huge, white spikes, which contrasted its black fur.

Before she could react, the beast lunged, attempting to bite her. However, just before it snapped down, an orange ring wrapped around her; from it emerged the form of a roaring, brillian orange tiger, which struck the Grimm and forced it to recoil, with a great slash now cut across its face; at the same time, she was thrown backwards, and had to quickly stabilize herself.

Just as she recovered, the great beast charged, forcing her to dive to the side – directly into the sewer waste. It turned quickly facing her, as she wiped a glob of unidentified substance off of her face.

"Well, now I'm officially pissed." she said, lifting her shotgun and firing at the rat beast. A volley of strong blasts knocked the creature back as she approached, managing to knock off a few spikes, but overall only causing a limited amount of harm. As she closed in, a faint orange glow began to emanate from her body, causing the filth which covered her body to slide off.

Apparently adapting to the blasts, the Grimm once more lunged forwards. This time, Susana quickly unfolded her weapon into it's form of a mace; the shaft extended to accommodate two hands, as her swing came in from the side. With one heavy blow, she slammed the great beasts head into the wall, generating a sickening thud.

To her surprise, though, as she pulled the mace back, the beast was still alive. It's collapsed face began re-shaping right before her eyes as it backed away, its bladed tail raising high as it stared at her. Before she could do anything else, it opened its mouth wide, releasing an ear-splitting, squeak-like sound which forced her to immediately cover her ears and step back.

As its opponent was dazed, the Grimm once more charged. Susana quickly caused her mace to fold, returning to a one-handed form, as she jumped over the moving creature. Its tail swung at her as she did so, but she was quick enough to grab it along the mid section; as she did so, she flipped her mace around in the other hand. The opposite end had a blade of its own, which she used to deliver a swift cut, and slice the tail in two.

She landed, then, with the end of the tail in one hand, and her mace in the other. The Grimm let out a loud cry as it turned around towards her; however, this time it was her turn to charge. Raising the tail high, she stabbed downward with the Grimm's own bladed appendage, shoving the tail through the creatures eye. With that, she stepped back; the creature raised its small paws, and began furiously attempting to pull the tail from its eye.

While her adversary waited, Susana took hold of her mace with both hands. Once more, she allowed the head to drop, transforming the weapon into a flail with chain. Then, she began to spin it. As she kept doing so, the flail head began firing shots, which continued to generate greater speed in the circle. The Grimm finally succeed in its goal, pulling its tail out of its face. However, there would be no time for celebration; as it recovered, the young Huntress in training swung. This time, the Grimm's entire head was pulverized; all that remained was small fragments of its mask.

After a few moments of admiring her handiwork, Susana ascended the initial shaft, making her way once more into the surface world. She brushed herself off, and then looked down the alleyway, to her initial destination. Coming from that path was another student she recognized from Signal; one clad in red and white.

Clancey laughed as he approached, saying, "You know, I don't think that's what the professors meant when they said your essays needed to be deeper."

"Oh, blow off." she replied. "I was fighting Grimm, not that it matters to you."

"What sort of Grimm lives in the sewers?" he asked. "It's nothing but rats and thieves down there."

"Sure. And now there's less."

* * *

**A/N (2/24):**** I keep going over this and I swear there's still something wrong with it. There's been a few revisions to fix things, but I'm almost worried that they might have made news problems.**

**The actual "Chapter 1" is getting a few more prettying touches, and then it'll be posted. My schedule's starting to clear up, which means more time for writing, which means content actually getting posted. So once more, thanks for reading, and to a hopeful future.**


	5. Initiation, Part 1

**Year One  
**

**Chapter I: Initiation, Pt.1**

The old ships which rested in the harbor outside of Vale's Historical Museum groaned as they were hit by a heavy wind. On the adjoining docks, various shipping crates lay spread out, showing none of the signs of movement which the moored ships displayed. As the cold light of the autumn sun touched down, reaching over the eastern cliffs and skyscrapers to bring illumination, a lone woman looked out to the ocean, her eyes closed as she rested amidst the cargo.

As the winds gave their final, dying sigh, her hair, which shimmered in a haze of rainbow colors, gave its last flicker, before finally resting. Her eyes were closed, though with regards to her face, they were all that could be seen, for she wore a white mask, designed after the skull of a deer, and with the imposing antlers to match.

"Hey!" called up a voice from below, prompting the woman to slowly stir, and turn her head to stare down. Below her stood a portly dock worker, his working class attire providing a sharp contrast to the elegant, white robes she wore.

After a few moments of her questioning stare, which left the man quite visibly taken aback, she asked him, "Do you every wonder why they built the city of Vale on the western coast?"

"Excuse me?" he said. "No, I haven't. And what are you even doing here? This is private property."

"I've wondered." she replied, ignoring him, and turning out to the ocean. "Every time I looked out, to the western seas. Every time I sat on the shoreline, and never saw the sun rise."

"Look lady, I just need you to leave."

"So I read into history." she continued, still unmoved by the man's intrusions. "I learned of the cities which once stood to the east. I learned of how each and every one of them fell to the Grimm. Only Vale, behind its cliffs, managed to survive. But to the east, there are no cliffs. There are simply open beaches, where grains of sand run through your bare feet, the air is clean and smells of salt, and the ocean waves are always there to greet you along with the rising sun."

"If you like it so much, go back. Or anywhere but here. Please?"

"But that's the problem, is it not?" she said, her tone of voice shifting to a more direct one as she turned to him. "For under those sands, they are always there. Within the ocean, they are always there. Further inland, they are always there. Always watching. Always hating us; hating humanity."

The woman dropped from the high crate she stood upon, and began approaching the man. "Tell me, if you could give anything to stop them... would you?"

The worker was no small man, being shaped by years of hard labor and effort. However, now that the woman was no longer sitting out of reach, it was quite clear that she was the far more imposing of the two; while not nearly as broad, she was much taller. Further, under the shadows of the crates, her sleek white mask of bone gave off an eerie look.

He took a step back, but he was far too slow to react as her hand shot towards him; he flinched, fearing attack. Yet to his surprise, rather than reaching for his neck, she simply rested her hand upon his shoulder. He stared into her eyes; violet, tinged with gold, and with that slight look of resignation so common to those who suffer from grief.

"You don't need to answer that." she said, giving a warm but nevertheless unnerving smile. "There are few who could, and fewer still those who would do it honestly. It is, after all, a terrible burden to recognize the world's dangers. Greater still is the burden to combat it. But it is a burden I have chosen to bear. I know what must be given. And you? You shall help me."

* * *

"You strong? That's great, I'm not much for weights, myself. Why don't you carry my stuff, and I'll carry yours? Big guy like you should have no trouble with that, but it wouldn't be fair I stood around and did nothing. Would you really? Thanks."

Clancey gave a quick glance behind him, looking to see who the participants were in the unusual discussion. Not far behind him, a brown-haired girl who he didn't recognize had apparently succeeded in convincing one of the larger students to push what was almost certainly the heaviest equipment cart in the field, while she trailed behind him with a much lighter-looking cart, which he couldn't imagine carried much more than a week's clothes and a weapon.

He didn't give much more thought to it then that. While a few other students had begun making snide remarks, he gave only a subtle smirk. As he turned about, his partner-in-walking, a grey-haired student wearing virtually no armor (or, in fact, clothing of any kind), continued to watch the scene, his head shaking.

"Do you ever wonder if that works on Grimm?" he asked.

"Oh?", Clancey responded, as he continued walking.

"You know, talking to them? Diplomacy? Manipulation? That sort of thing.", he replied, stopping a moment to scoop up a few fallen cards. "Ooh, or maybe bribery? Buy one, get one free at _A Simple Wok, _good until last Thursday?"

"Even if they could read, Alan, I doubt offering them old noodles would be much of an incentive." Clancey said, as they finally approach the massive entry-way which the whole student body seemed to be moving towards. A well-dressed attendant approached them, and after taking their names, quickly relieved both of their luggage carts, taking them off down some side-path.

Clancey watched the carts go. As various others passed by, many with weapons hanging on them, he instinctively went to check the rifle on his back. He noted that his friend, on the other hand, stood completely unarmed.

"Letting your weapon go off without you? What would Professor Qrow say?" he accused, giving a slight smirk.

Alan rolled his eyes, and replied, "Not much, I imagine. We're not at Signal, anymore. I hope we have professors like him here, though. He was a pretty cool teacher. Creepy weapon, though."

"There certainly aren't many scythe-wielders. None in our class, at the very least." Clancey noted, as he looked back at the incoming waves of students. A third airship had just landed, though unlike the comparatively small groups in the first two, this one had jammed at least twenty people into the tight space. _"__Glad I didn't take that one.", _he thought to himself.

While Clancey overlooked the incoming group, he felt a tap on his shoulders, followed by Alan saying, "Hey, I'm heading inside. Might be nice to milk our exploration time before classes while we can, you know?"

"Yeah, you go on ahead." he replied. "I'm going to see who else shows up, alright?"

Alan shrugged, and said, "Right, I'll catch you later then." He then walked off towards the main entryway, leading towards the main grounds of Beacon Academy.

As he looked out over the large walkway, Clancey looked towards the massive statue which dominated out further towards the airship docks. More than a few students were standing at the base taking pictures, or comparing their own appearances to that of the imposing stone hero. He began to idly wonder who the hero was; before he could recall the name, however, he was startled from his thoughts by the calling of his own.

The girl he recognized as Susana Tiagris was now standing at his side, her arm extended. Clancey responded in kind, and the two quickly clasped hands; though to the observer, their method was more akin to the motion one makes when lifting another off the ground. Once Clancey dropped the gesture, Susana was quick to be the first to speak, asking, "What are you doing standing out here on your own? Don't you have anything better to do?"

"I could ask you the same." he replied.

"Trying to figure out where Gwen wandered off to. I was also hoping to run into Arlette, and your dumb face is usually the best way to find her. Figured you might have a better idea than me."

"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea." he said, a sad smile edging over his lips. "She didn't tell you about the transfer?"

"What transfer?"

"She's off to Mistral, now." he replied. "She was accepted into Haven. They started up last week, and apparently had a rather exciting Initiation Week."

"I can't believe she didn't say anything." Susana said, shaking her head in disgust. "Sparring buddies for all of our first year, and not even an attempt to say anything."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think anybody else knew either." he replied. "She told me right after out final mission, and asked me to keep quiet about it. I guess I just figured she'd let everyone else know later. By the way, since I never got a chance to ask, what exactly was yours?"

"You're a few months late on that one, aren't you?"

"Considering why you came over to talk to me, it would appear that we both are."

"Funny. But to answer the question, we had a patrol. Not many large groups, but there was a lot of walking. I can't stand long walks."

"If you didn't wear so much armor, that would probably help." he offered, tapping on the attire in question. "You've got an aura for a reason, after all."

"And when that runs out? Then what? Get taken out by one lucky Beowolf? Sorry, not interested. Besides, you're not exactly wearing the lightest outfit in Beacon."

For the next few moments, the two stood there quietly, looking out from the steps to the incoming members of their class. While many of the faces were familiar, others were new, indicating their coming from a variety of other combat schools; many, going by both attire and mannerisms, were likely not even from Vale. Just as diverse were their expressions; while some strode in with confidence, others nervously darted their eyes about, their discomfort on display for all to see.

"Well, I'm heading off." Susana said, heading off into the main academy. "And you'd better get a move on, unless you want to stand on someone's shoulders to see the Headmaster."

"Have fun." he replied, blandly, as he continued to look on. After a while, he glanced back, gave a quick nod of appreciation to the imposing Beacon Tower, and made his way into the main auditorium.

Students of all sorts assembled around the chamber as Clancey eased his way through the crowd. From the looks of things, there were even a few upper-classmen stationed about the rooms; perhaps interested in hearing whatever the Headmaster had to say, or perhaps there to ensure nothing went wrong. Though he couldn't imagine the latter was much of an issue.

As he looked about, he noticed that he was standing next to a rather unusual person. It was another boy, of about his age and smaller build, and a rather plain overall appearance. While relatively nondescript, the absurdity of many of the surrounding outfits left him the odd one out.

"You're looking a little nervous." Clancey observed, noting the way that the boy carried himself.

"That obvious?" the boy replied.

"It's fairly clear you're not from around here. Clancey, by the way." he said, extending his arm.

"Neven," he said, taking the offered handshake. "And no, I'm not. I was born and raised in Vacuo, and just arrived a short while back."

"Vacuo? And you came all of the way to Vale?" Clancey asked, raising an eyebrow. Vacuo had it's own combat academies, after all. The question burned;_"Why would he cross continents just to become a Hunter?"_

"Well, you know, it's a reputation thing." he said, shrugging. "Sure, Vacuo has its own school, but Beacon. It's a pretty big deal, and a lot harder to test into. Did you know only thirty-two people used to be accepted every year?"

"They raise it by four this year." Clancey noted, looking about the room, and at the students within. "If the rumors are true, though, this years admits were some of the lowest academic scorers yet. Though combat skills..."

Neven put his hand up to scratch the back of his head. "Heh. That's probably part of why I got in, then. I'm a bit of an outlier to that."

"Oh?"

"I'm a little worried. Fighting Grimm is supposedly pretty intense, but... well, to tell the truth, I've never done it before. Just read about them, and even then, not a lot of the ones around Vale. Vacuo's got some pretty weird ones, though."

Their conversation was interrupted by the slight hum of the microphone, turning the attention of all gathered students to the central stage which dominated the auditorium; and dominating the stage, more out of his legend than his physical presence, was Professor Ozpin, the Headmaster. Standing just off to the side was another professor, who Clancey recognized as Glynda Goodwitch, the professor who had spoken to them via video message on the ride over.

"For many of you, today is the most important day in your lives so far." he began. "You have met the requirements; overcome the challenges. Today, though your acceptance into Beacon Academy, you have been rewarded."

Clancey quickly glanced about the room. Many of the students had perked their heads up at his words, and a slight smile broke over his face as he considered what they might be thinking.

"You have traveled here in search of knowledge; to master your skills and hone your craft. You seek a way to defeat the Creatures of Grimm; a way to stand against the forces of darkness, and defend humanity against the threats which lay in wait beyond these cliffs. You do this in hopes that this knowledge will make you a fully fledged Huntsman or Huntress, standing as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. But your time here shall prove that knowledge can only carry you so far."

To that, Clancey's eyebrow quickly perked up. _"__Is this the same speech he gives ever year?" _he quietly wondered, as he glanced around to the upperclassmen along the sides.

"Beyond the borders of Vale, there are threats which few can possibly imagine. They stand in numbers impossible to count, waiting eternally for the day that humanity shows even the briefest glimmer of weakness. If that day should ever come to pass, then we will fall, and all that we have stood for will be lost."

"As of this moment, you stand here in need of purpose, direction. Though you may assume otherwise, your knowledge will not free of of this. Your path, and your survival as a protector of the people, must be something of your own design. It is up to you to take the first step."

Upon his saying that, Ozpin walked off, leaving the microphone vacant. Glynda stepped up at that point, and added, "For the next four hours, you may explore all public forums of the campus grounds. The cafeteria will be open from five until six for your evening meal. Tonight, you will report to the ballroom; tomorrow, your initiation will begin. Prepare yourself. You are dismissed."

As Glynda, too, departed the stage, leaving Clancey, and the other students, to ponder what he had just heard.

**A/N:** **And that's Chapter 1. Not very long; just here for establishing things. Chapter 2 is in the works right now, and from the looks of it... well, I can't say the same for Chapter 2! Thanks for reading; remember, if you have any suggestions or comments, just leave a quick one. Let's make this a long run.**


	6. Initiation, Part 2

**Year One  
****Chapter I: Initiation, Pt.2**

Neven departed fairly soon after the speech, intent on getting an early chance to inspect the library. Clancey, on the other hand, figured that now would probably be the best time to get his stuff put away in the lockers; before the room was crowded, and things began to get too mixed around.

As he departed the locker room, he heard shouting down the hall; shouting, wherein he just happened to recognize one of the voices. After all, Susana wasn't exactly the type of person known for using an inside voice.

The other side of the argument seemed to be coming from a smaller, brown-haired girl; the same one who had been so quick to relieve her workload upon first getting off the airship. Her original helper, though, seemed to be absent; her cart was not. That, based on the current situation – namely, her toppled cart and scattered luggage. Gwen stood just off to the side, hand pressed tightly over her mouth to stifle laughter.

"Just because you come from some huge, rich family, doesn't mean you have the right to leave your things scattered around while people are trying to walk! Are you even looking at your own things? Do you know what would have happened if I had been _running_ down this hallway?"

"Sure, the placement was bad. But perhaps walking backwards isn't the best idea, either?"

Gwen came over to Clancey as he approached, grinning as she said, "You're just in time."

Susana raised her arm and pointed directly at the other girl. "Don't try to make this about me, this is about you. You just leaving your stuff in the middle of a hallway."

"You mean pulling it down a hallway?"

Gwen turned about to look back at the pair, as Clancey asked, "Friends?"

"Nah. Never even met before. Of course, it doesn't help the girl happens to be Violet Jardine. Though it probably would, were it not for her mothers placement as a judge in Sue's last debate."

"The one she lost?"

"Yup."

The two turned back to the current fight. While Susana was clearly somewhat flustered, her anger appeared to be dying out. Violet, on the other hand, had remained mostly unaffected by the whole affair.

"Look, I see you're having troubles with this. But if you trip, you trip. You can't just throw the blame on me for your not looking around." she offered, causing Susana to give an almost stunned look.

"Throw the blame on you? Is that how you see it? It's your fault!" Susana cried out, her voice rising even louder now; despite this, she was clearly becoming exasperated.

"All I'm saying is, a fault has clearly been made here, and we're never going to move on if we keep arguing over it."

"Sue doesn't know when to quit." Gwen noted. Clancey nodded, and began walking forwards. As he did so, she frowned, and said, "Oh, don't be a killjoy!"

Clancey stepped up to the two, raising his hands and saying, "Okay, both of you just need to calm down. Save the fighting for the Grimm."

"The Grimm didn't try to trip me with their luggage!" Susana replied. "And stay out of it; this isn't your fight, anyways."

"No, he's right. I think that calming down is exactly what this situation needs." Violet said, backing up closer towards Clancey as she did so. After placing some distance between herself and Susana, she flashed a quick grin, which he only barely caught out of the corner of his eye. Susana, on the other hand, caught it fully, and was only getting more irate.

"Which means an apology from both sides." Clancey added.

To that, Violet frowned, and said, "For what, exactly? This is hardly my fault."

"It's nobodies fault." he said. "But regardless, the fighting needs to stop."

"It'll stop alright." Susana said. With a scoff, she stormed past the two, only stopping to add, "And you're not getting an apology." Clancey turned about to watch her leave. Gwen gave a quick shrug, and then followed.

"Well, she was a bitch." Violet noted. "You mind helping me with this?"

As Clancey helped her with putting everything back in order, he asked her, "You do realize all you needed to do was apologize, right?"

"As if." she responded. "There's a rule with people like that; you never yield ground. Give one inch, they take a mile."

"You say that because you haven't known her for four years. Trust me, she's not that unforgiving. She'll probably stew over it for a few hours, though."

"Well, you can hardly blame me for not knowing."

"That's because it's not about blame. I almost wonder if I should have just let you two go at it, looking at what ended up happening. Things may have been better that way."

"Not much of a diplomat, huh?" she said, as she placed the final piece of luggage back in its place. With a flourish, she grabbed onto the various bindings meant to hold everything in place, and quickly wrapped everything down.

"No." he admitted. "Never been much of a talker. Words are great, but actions are better. Fighting, strategizing, sculpting..."

"Sculpting?"

"Everyone needs a hobby." he said with a shrug.

"Hunting Grimm isn't a hobby?" she asked, leaning slightly against her now fully established cart.

"Not really. It's more a profession." he said. "Hobbies generally don't get you killed."

"Oh, I doubt they're that dangerous. I mean, not long ago I had a fight with this big, bad Beowulf, with huge teeth. He was like three times as big as me, and I did him in just fine. If we really get put in teams, I doubt they'll even be a threat."

"Perhaps for some. But there's usually more than just one, and they're usually much bigger. And if you're unlucky? You don't even recognize them. Susana, your new friend there, had an incident with one of those just last week. Huge rat Grimm in the sewers; never seen anything like it."

"You mean a Ratatosk?" she asked. Clancey raised his eyebrow as she did so. He had never heard of such a Grimm before in any of his studies, let alone so casual of a reference to a more esoteric variety.

"Perhaps." he replied. "Assuming the creature in question also has a bladed tail, and unusual damage survival capabilities."

"That'd be your Grimm, then. One of my tutors had a book with a huge list of weird Grimm. Most of them are apparently almost extinct around Vale, but apparently those ones live in huge warrens under the city. Hunters managed to break in and clear most of them out, but a few of the tunnels are too essential to be collapsed. If one of them ever gets lucky enough to make it into the sewers, they just keep growing and growing."

"I hope you've got as much combat experience as book knowledge."

"Eh... I've had a lot of practice. Sparring and dummies, mostly... well, almost completely."

"I suppose that's why Beacon's a school, not just a certification course. Best of luck... Violet, right?"

"Yeah... ooh! And your name?"

"It's Clancey. Pleasure to meet you."

The two shook hands, before Clancey said, "Well, I'm heading off. Word of advice? Don't fiddle with any extra functions. I already saw one kind accidentally launch his entire dust supply out past the borders of Vale."

"I'll keep that in mind." she said, nodding, as she casually pulled along the luggage cart. "I'll get on that, now. I'll probably catch you later."

With a final nod goodbye, Clancey continued down the hallway. Pulling out his scroll, he checked to see if he had received any messages yet from anybody else. So far, all ways quiet. Thinking to figure out where his friends had went off too, he put in a call to Alan.

* * *

The cafeteria was fairly open when Clancey entered, with more than enough space to fit at least twice the population of the school. For the incoming freshmen class, it was almost _too_ much room, as the wrestling of a couple students in the far corner of the room demonstrated.

He found that he didn't recognize a disturbingly high number of students in the room. Being the feeder school for Beacon, Signal had certainly offered an impressive array of students. Yet as he looked around, he figured less than twenty of his seventy class-mates had made the transition; indeed, he figured there were just over thirty students, representing all four kingdoms, here in Beacon. It was the first time he truly began to realize just how many friends had been left behind.

Fork in hand, Clancey idly watched the ongoing brawl, as he tapped against his dinner tray. He heard Alan say, "You know, I hear food tastes better when it's hot. It's only a rumor, but they say all rumors are based on truth."

"Just thinking." he replied, impaling a few pieces of meat.

Besides Alan and Clancey, there sat two other students. The first was the dagger-wielding student who had gone to the tower with Clancey; a very skinny fellow, clad in torn, loose-fitting clothes which most certainly weren't a combat outfit, and with long, black hair. The second was a blonde girl, whose blue and white outfit could easily be mistaken for a dress were it not for the obvious, combat-practical re-fittings.

The girl raised a small teacup and took a drink, setting it next to the rather extravagant top-hat resting near her tray. "Clancey, love, are you alright?" she asked, a note of concern on her face.

"I'm fine, Alice." he replied. "Like I said, just thinking."

"No sense hurting yourself." the black-haired boy replied, smirking. "I'm no expert, but I'd say you're worried about something."

For a moment, he said nothing, continuing to watch the match. He didn't recognize either of the students, though from their looks, he figured they were from Mistral and Atlas, respectively. After a moment, he flashed a glance to the other student; Odhran, by name. "You know, that would hurt a little bit more if you hadn't utterly failed in the weapons construction final."

"I happen to _like _my daggers." Odhran replied, pointing a finger at Clancey. "Not everyone needs a fancy tri-fold to fight monsters. Specialization is the key to victory, after all."

"One can appreciate a pinch of variety." Alice said. "Then again, one does not usually go through their plate in alphabetical order."

"Don't blame him," Alan replied. "It's just how his mommy always packed lunch."

"Eight years and you still haven't let that go?" Odhran groaned. Alan just laughed at him, and Alice gave a light smile. Looking back to Clancey again, she asked, "You may have distracted those two, but you're not going to side-track me so easily. Why don't you tell us what is it you're so concerned about?"

"Tomorrow." he answered, turning around to look at everyone. "We've all heard the rumors. Students dying during initiation, random name drawings to select teams. We should compare what we know, and figure out a game-plan for tomorrow."

"_Not that it really matters what we plan. Still, no sense bothering anyone else with a missing person's report."_ he thought to himself. Based on the quizzical look Alice gave, he figured she still wasn't convinced.

Before any more could be said, Alan offered, "Well, one of my brother's friends said he hacked into a live-feed from the initiation last year. He said they have cameras hidden all across the Emerald Forest, but his connection was cut off before he could see anything interesting happen."

"That matches up with what Arlette was telling me last year." Clancey replied. "Her sister had told her it was a training location, or something like that. Still, what could they expect of us? Kill a few Grimm and report back?"

"Maybe it's like a race?" Odhran said. "Like, what if the Headmaster teleports us to the edge of the forest, and then we get ranked by how quickly we get there?"

"That sounds like the wishful thinking of a runner to me." Alice said. "Remember, a Hunter must be more than just quick; they must be clever, and resourceful. No doubt, we are being sent to retrieve something of interest. Though what that something could be, I have no idea."

"It could be some sort of trophy." Alan suggested. "Like the horn or mask of a Grimm."

"Doubtful." Clancey replied. "Grimm disintegrate far too quickly to make a trophy feasible as evidence."

"Unless it's a race."

"It's not going to be a race. If it was a race, they'd be ignoring the very tenants of what we're meant to be tested by. Trust me, we're being sent after something. The only question is what it is."

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a voice asking, "Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here."

Clancey turned. It was Neven, again, carrying a dinner tray. Clancey nodded to Alan, and both scooted down, as he said, "Make yourself comfortable."

"We don't bite." Alan said.

"Very much." Odhran added. "Except Grimm. Those we _do _bite."

Neven chuckled at that as he sat down, saying, "I didn't know you could bite Grimm. I didn't really learn about that back in Vacuo."

"Oh, it's a long-lasting tradition here in Vale." Odhran replied. "See, back in the old days, everyone bit each other as a way of saying 'hello'. So this one farmer, well, he comes across this big old Beowolf, who of course bites him."

"I don't deserve this." Alice said, pulling out a small vial from under her shirt, and pouring the clear contents of it into her tea-cup.

"Oh, be nice. We don't want the newbie to miss out on the culture. Anyways, as I was saying: The Beowolf bites the farmer, and the farmer, well, he bites back. Only, see, the farmer is incredibly strong, and he just rips this huge chunk out of the Beowolf. Now, normally Grimm just sort of don't care, but this Beowolf, well he just let's go, and backs off from the farmer. Next week, it's an Ursa. The farmer does the same thing, and again, the Ursa just runs off."

"A month passes, and suddenly, this huge Death Stalker with two tails shows up in town. The peasants all lock their doors, but instead of running in fear, they start cheering for the farmer to come out. Sure enough, there he is. Only the Death Stalker, well, it has no mouth. Instead, it lunges forward, trying to pinch him. So the farmer reaches out, and grasps the monster by its claw, and vigorously shakes back. Strong as he is, he just snaps the monster's arm, and it runs off into the woods. Or at least, it tries to; see, as it runs off, he bites it on its tail, and rips that one off as well."

"Ever since then, all Death Stalker's have had only one tail. And in honor of the farmer, all of the citizens of Vale since then have offered a handshake, to show our power and strength over all Grimm."

With that, Odhran thrust his hand across the table to Neven. The foreign boy returned the shake, though weakly, and with a look of somewhat amused confusion upon his face.

"Don't mind him." Alan said. "He's just bored because he's stuck with us."

"It's not fair that you got to bring most of your friends to Beacon." Odhran said, giving Alan an accusing look. "Me? I got stuck with you guys."

"As if you don't enjoy our company." Alice replied, downing the rest of her drink, and moving on to the small piece of cake on the corner of her plate. "I for one do not miss the random explosions which you would have no doubt taken part in, were the rest of your hooligan friends to make the transfer."

"Hey! That was only once!"

"So... you're all from Signal?" Neven asked, looking up to join in with the conversation.

"Of course." Alice answered. She raised her hand to indicate the other three, and said, "The four of us attended Central Vale Primary prior to that. There was also Arlette, though she is no longer with."

"Oh... I'm sorry for your loss."

Alan did a spit-take as Neven spoke. Clancey, too, chuckled, and said, "She's not dead or anything. She's just not here with us right now."

"_On that note,"_ he thought. _"I don't know of much that _could_ kill her."_

Neven stopped for a moment, and gave a look of embarrassment. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's fine." Clancey said. "No, she went off to Mistral. She'd already succeeded on getting a spot reserved in early admissions, but... well, it was family business."

"Which you never intend to clarify, do you?" Odhran added. "Say, is that what you were talking about that night we were at the tower? The two of you were all mopey after that. Guess I just never connected everything together until now."

"Yes, it was." Clancey added. "And no, I think it's best left at that. You know how private she was."

"Unlike some people." Alan said, not looking at anyone in particular.

"Whatever could you mean?" Neven asked.

"Some of our class are a tad more open about things." Alice answered. "I do believe our dear Alan is referring to one of our fellow students in a less-than-pleasant manner."

"We're basically your normal group of the school." Alan said. "Good fighters, cool powers, nobody special."

"Speak for yourself." Odhran replied.

"I'd hardly classify the guy who got Signal first place in the year's strategy competitions as being _normal_, Alan." Clancy said.

Alice reached over the table to place a hand on Alan's shoulder. "Love, there's no sense in understating our abilities on your own behalf."

"Your words are like cutting blades." Alan replied, brushing her hand off. "But there you have it. The best and brightest of Signal, and then my half-naked self tagging along for the right. And Odhran."

"Watch it, grandpa." Odhran said.

"Don't be jealous because you're not a natural grey." Alan replied. "But anyways, besides us, there's a few others. Most of the groups got left behind, or splintered pretty badly. It's going to be a lot of one-man-armies for today."

"With a few exceptions." noted Alice. "Our fellow student with loose-lips is a girl named Sienna. Pretty, and a talented mage."

"She plays the role of 'popular girl' very well," Clancey noted. "I doubt she's actually done her homework more than a couple of times the last few years. Just don't let that fool you. She didn't become a mage, or get into this academy, through cheating alone."

"And even if you feel brave enough to risk being roasted, you'll have to deal with Braith as well." Alan said. "And that's not something anyone wants to do."

"Who's that?"

Alan raised his fingers, and began striking them as he began listing things off. "Most popular girl in school. Greatest athlete Signal has ever seen. Valedictorian of the class. Took down a Death Stalker single-handed. Overall perfect girl. Take your pick."

"It was, admittedly, a rather small Death Stalker." added Alice. "I was there for the incident. Professor Taiyang seemed quite irate to find one still alive."

"Could you blame him?" Clancey asked. "He always made a point of keeping Patch safe for his daughters. Half of the time, he was out on hunting trips with Professor Qrow and other Hunters to mop up things. The Death Stalker massacre was one of his proudest achievements."

"Point being," Alan continued. "She's good. Really good. If she wasn't such a bitch about it, we might even be happy for her. As it is, the only time I've seen her smile for the last for years was when she was killing something. She generally spars against teams, just to keep in practice. Susana's the only one crazy enough to keep fighting her solo."

Before Neven could even ask, Alice answered, "Another girl from our class. She came from the same primary as Braith, and the two have been rivals ever since we've known them. A good fighter, but one with terrible luck, and far too little patience."

"Technically, she's part of our group." Clancey said. "Her and Gwen; Gwen being the white-haired girl who's usually with her. Mellow, if perhaps a little too fond of merely spectating in Sue's constant fights. Of course, they've been avoiding us ever since the tournament at the end of last year."

"Can you blame her?" said Odhran. "If I got smashed that badly, I'd be embarrassed too."

"I thought you said she was a good fighter?" Neven asked.

"Normally, she is." Clancey said. "Thing is, the tournament was meant to be for two-man teams. Of course, as soon as she saw Braith was going solo, she decided she would as well."

"To be fair, not everyone at Signal is _that_ good." Alan said. "Were she to go up against most groups, she'd have been fine. Even with one of us, it would have at least been a good fight. But she wound up drawing Braith for the very first fight."

"I don't remember what Sue said that pissed her off so much, but Braith didn't hold back anything. Or, rather, she _did_. The fight should have been over in maybe twenty seconds. It wasn't."

Alice shook her head at that. "Quicker than that. Sue wasn't nearly fast enough to guard against those attacks. Not with her flail."

Noting Neven's confusion, Clancey said, "Braith should have ended the fight quickly, as she normally did. Instead, she dragged it out for nearly five minutes, tossing Sue around like a rag doll the whole time, in front of the entire student body. She never let Sue's aura drop low enough for the match to be called. Mind you, it was her own damn fault. _'Too bad your parents can't see this'_, was more than uncalled for."

"Ah, right." Alan said. "_That's_ what those comments were."

"Top of her class? Best fighter? Orphan?" Neven asked. "I'm sorry, it sounds like you're trying to pull a fast one on me. Next you're going to tell me she's the chosen one."

"And _that's_ why we don't hang out with her." Alan said. "Because she pretty much thinks she is."

"Though it should be noted, her comments regarding my choice in head attire remain her greatest crime." Alice added. "Still, I suppose her type always winds up getting what they want. She will no doubt have a successful team."

"That depends on the process of selection." Clancey replied. "Something which, much like the process of initiation, we are still mostly in the dark about."

"Well, I know it's teams of four." Neven said. "Maybe the four of you will wind up together?"

"I don't know if we get a choice." Alice said. "If the rumors are true, partner selection is done by random selection. The teams themselves? That I am less certain about."

"We'll find out tomorrow." Clancey said. "Really, I suppose there's no sense worrying, seeing as we can't really do anything about it."

"There may also be a way of making things easier..." Neven said, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a folded sheet of white paper. He set it upon the table, and rolled it open, revealing a map of the area surrounding Beacon. Everything was there: landmarks, trail paths, and even a few notations on hotspots for Grimm. Clancey began to immediately take it all in.

"Where did you get this?" Clancey asked. "Did you bring it with you?"

"They had it in the library. I just made a copy." Neven answered. "Though since we don't know much about what we're doing, I don't know how helpful this could be."

"Knowing the layout for the Emerald Forest could be helpful." Clancey noted, pointing to that area on the map. "Though there doesn't seem to be much more than a few small mountains to break the woods, which means it could be pretty easy to get lost."

"Not really." Alice said, motioning to the Beacon Cliffs on the map. "The only challenge will be finding clearings to look over the trees. We should be able to see them for miles."

"What I thought was more interesting," Neven began. "Is these."

He pointed to three separate locations on the map, each showing complexes of some kind. "I can't identify the markings, but unless I'm mistaken, these are definitely ruins of some kind."

"I can confirm that." Clancey said, thinking back to his knowledge of regional history. "The area just outside of Vale is littered with ancient, abandoned sites. Most of them become hiding holes for the Grimm."

"Do you think any live in ruined churchyards?" asked a voice from behind, startling Clancey and breaking his chain of thought. He turned to identify the speaker, and saw that it was Violet, the same girl from earlier. She had a glass in her hand, but no dinner tray in hand.

"I suppose there's a few." he replied, as she walked around, heading to the opposite side of the table. "Though you're the one with esoteric knowledge of the Grimm here."

"Well yeah, I know a bit about them." Violet said, as she sat herself down next to Alice. "But I never found an answer to that question. Oh, and by the way, do you have a problem if I sit here?"

"Suppose not." Alan said. He then glanced down the table, to the main entryway of the cafeteria. "Well, speak of the devil," he said "And she will appear."

Clancey turned, to see what Alan had noticed. Coming down the hallway were Braith, Sienna, and a small group of others who they had apparently collected. They were foreigners, for the most part.

"They don't seem that bad." Neven remarked, with a frown. "I mean, they just seem like normal students to me."

"Nobody is _that _bad." Alan replied. "But don't let outside appearances fool you. Especially not with that group."

"I'm going to go talk to them." Violet said, staring at the group.

"I wouldn't recommend it, dear."

Alice's comment went unnoticed, as Violet quickly stood up, leaving only her glass behind, as she went off to go speak to the other group. Odhran chuckled, and said, "Well, at least she's gone."

"She didn't seem that bad." Alan said.

"Her manners could be more refined." Alice noted. "Based on the fabric of her attire, I'd assume high income. Clancey, love, you seemed to know her?"

"I met her after she ran into Sue earlier. Her name's Violet Jardine."

"Who?" Odhran asked.

"The Jardine family is a weapons manufacturer, based here in Vale." Alice explained. "They're rather large, thanks in part to them buying out most of the dust mines in the kingdom. They supply most of the weaponry used by the local military, and occasionally, for Hunters. Latest rumors have it that their dust mines are running dry, and the Schnee Dust Company is looking for a vertical merger."

"You need to start sending me these news links, Alice." Clancey said. "I hadn't heard anything about a merger."

"Well, the rumors were always there. It's only that recently, there's actually material facts to back it up."

'We'd best be heading out soon." noted Alan, who glanced up towards the clock. "It doesn't appear our break will be lasting much longer."

"To the ballroom, then?" asked Alice, who began to rise. Clancey glanced about the table, and noted that somehow, despite being the cleanest and most well-mannered at the table, Alice had also managed to leave her plate without a single dirty spot. Odhran and Alan, on the other hand, could have each single-handedly justified the job of a dish-washer.

Then, with a nod, Clancey stood, saying, "We should probably grab our toiletries first."

"And grab a spot in the hall." Alan added, as he, Odhran, and Neven began to rise. "Can you grab the black bag in my locker? Same pass-code as usual, locker should be 537. I'll go secure us spots in the main hall."

"Make sure it's as far from the restroom as possible." Clancey said. "I'd rather be the one tripping over people in the dark, than the one actually being tripped over."

"You got it." Alan responded, grinning as he gave a thumbs up, and then quickly turned down a side

"So, do you guys mind if...?" Neven began to ask.

"Of course not, love." Alice replied. "Stick around as long as you need to."

As the group began making their way out of the cafeteria, Clancey took a moment to glance around the room. The brawl from earlier had dissipated, only to be replaced by what appeared to be a competition of one-fingered push-ups by a few of the students. A few had taken notice to their group rising, and began brushing aside her trash into the waste-bins. Violet had managed to catch the attention of Braith and Sienna, and looked to be engaged in conversation with the latter. Now that they were standing, he noted that Gwen had made her way into the room, and was standing off in the corner speaking to two faunus students. There was no sign of Susana at the moment, though he couldn't imagine she was very far off.

"_I wonder how Sue will react if she gets throw on another team then Gwen,"_ Clancey mused. _"Or being on a team at all, really."_

Alice and Neven were having a discussion about books of some sort, now. Odhran, being completely uninterested in literature, was now thumbing through his scroll, with the occasional chuckle reminding everyone that he was still with them. Meanwhile, Clancey continued to think on the events; more-so, he began to consider who would make a good team.

"_If Sue wasn't Sue, she'd be a great team-mate. Certainly one of the strongest fighters, and a better team player than Braith would be. Though truth be told, neither Braith or Sienna would necessarily be bad team-mates. Having a fire-mage as strong as Sienna to cover you would be useful, and I can't imagine someone as talented as Braith fighting coming up more than once every four years."_

"_Gwen's not a bad fighter, either. Then again, she's never been keen on doing work outside of combat-work, so that could be a problem. The same could be said for Odhran, though he isn't nearly as good. Heck, he still hasn't gotten his daggers upgraded to include a ranged weapon, and that's going to get him killed one day."_

They made their way to the locker room. Clancey took out a small bag of essentials from his own locker, before making his way over to Alan's. _"Alan's good, and I wouldn't mind being teamed up with him. Come to think of it, having him and Gwen on the same team couldn't be a bad thing. They did pretty well __together in that tournament."_

Having grabbed their things, the group made their way back down the halls, to the ballroom. He gave a quick glance to Alice, who was now demonstrating – with some help from her bag – a number of magic tricks, made all of the more impressive by the lack of dust involved. _"Hopefully Alice winds up on whatever team I'm on. As modest as she is, I've yet to take her in a duel. Plus, she's dependable."_

For a few moments, his mind continued running over other students from Signal, only to realize that nobody else really stood out in his mind. Instead, he turned his thoughts to the other students he had run into.

"_Neven seems nice enough, and fairly smart."_ he noted. _"But somehow, he doesn't strike me as much of a fighter. I'm not sure if he'll fair as well as the others in combat. Then again, I suppose that's only relative to other students at Beacon."_

"_Then there's Violet. Again, somewhat knowledgeable, albeit in different fields than one might expect. Doesn't look like much of a fighter either, though I'd more less surprised for looks to be deceiving in her case than with Neven. And despite what Alice said, I imagine her manners are a tad more refined than she's letting on. Convincing another student to drag her luggage around is proof enough of that."_

Alan waved them down as they entered the ballroom, showing a set of bedrolls he had already prepared for them. Clancey tossed Alan his bag, before setting his own down near one of the rolls.

The next few hours were spent in a haze of idle chitchat, planning, and occasionally leaving to talk with the other students about matters. For his part, Clancey waited there the whole time, listening to the others, and considering the matter of the day to come. How would initiation be? Who would they be teamed up with? Would they really be searching through a Grimm-infested forest? And what would they be searching for?

Amazingly, everyone seemed fairly relaxed. Though as he sat their listening in his bedroll, Clancey tuned his ears to listening about the room. He had been on enough trips; he knew the sound of people sleeping. He knew that tonight, very few of the other students were getting much rest.

* * *

**A/N:** **And that concludes Chapter Two. A little bit of detail for the side characters, and some speculations by Clancey as to the teams. Thank you for reading, and swing by next chapter to see how the first years deal with the hardship that is Initiation Day.**


	7. Initiation, Part 3

**Year One  
****Chapter I: Initiation, Pt.3**

Morning. Lights, sounds, and excitement – the ballroom had become a haven to all of these, as students frantically rushed to put all of their gear away. "_If this continues __throughout the morning__,"_ thought Susana, unfortunately one of the last students to have awakened, as she bundled up her bedroll,_"Then the cafeteria will certainly be quite exciting."_

Most of the students seemed to have already formed groups of some kind. There were, of course, a few odd ones out. She saw no need in it herself – why start grouping yourselves up when the Beacon staff would supposedly make those choices for you? Teams would come with time, and groups along with them, she figured. It only seemed natural to let things take their course.

Of course, that didn't mean she was going to leave everything entirely up to fate. Once she finally threw everything back into its original bag, she gave Gwen, her only companion at the moment, a heavy pat on the back. "So, Gwen, given it any thought on how we keep on the same team?"

"Isn't that your job?" her friend replied, in a calm but somewhat accusatory tone. Gwen had already finish packing her stuff some time ago, and was now occupied attempting to comb her hair, with a mirror occupying the other hand. Susana couldn't remember if Gwen had showered the night before, and was certain she wasn't going to now.

"Planning is for people like you and Clancey. I did some digging while you were at the cafeteria yesterday, though, and managed to find out from one of the wandering upperclassmen that, apparently, we're not just dealing with Grimm. Apparently they usually do? I don't know."

"It does seem like they'd want some variety." Gwen offhandedly replied, tossing the mirror side and whipping out her butterfly knife. She flicked it back and forth between her fingers, as though checking for some intangible property.

Susana sighed heavily. "Look, in any case, we've got to be ready. And we've got to stick together. I'm sure the staff will notice things like that."

"You told me yesterday that it was stupid for people to group up, when they'll clearly be separated. Didn't you?" Gwen replied, placing her weapon away, and finally turning to look Susana in the eyes. The crack of a smile hovered on the edge of her mouth, and the blatantly bad show of hiding amusement left Susana flustered.

More than that, in fact. Gwen was right, of course, though Susana could never so openly admit a mistake. "That's... It's completely different! One is a group scenario, the other is two people. There's a big difference between those, and you know it."

"Look, Sue, however they decide matters... we don't have a say in it. The best we can do is stay close, and hope for the best. Just try to relax a little. There's no sense lying to yourself and making excuses."

Susana dismissed the notion immediately, blowing it off with a wave of the hand. Looking around the room, she considered the number of boys still present, and decided quickly that the room was occupied with other things. She threw her nightshirt aside, and dressed herself in a white undershirt from her bag. Despite being fully and modestly equipped, she still felt naked without her armor; again, she returned to her bag, and dug around a while in search of a jacket of some kind. Eventually, she withdrew an orange hoodie, which bore upon its right breast an encircled lily flower. She considered her appearance for a few moments by looking in Gwen's mirror, but decided against making any touch-ups; no sense doing so before rushing into combat, after all.

"Come on, let's get going." Susana said, throwing her pack on. "We don't know how much time until Initiation begins."

There was a beep, and Gwen reached to pull out her scroll. After checking for a few moments, she said, "We've got two hours, and then we report to the Beacon Cliffs for Initiation. Seems you woke up just in time."

"Two hours!" she cried out, grasping Gwen and delivering a firm shake. "We still need to get to the cafeteria; come on!"

The two, and all of their stuff, was gone only a few minutes after that display, leaving a few of the students looking about confusedly. Among them was Violet Jardine, who watched the two leave from a short while off. _"Wonder what they're in such a big hurry for?"_ she thought.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to see who it was. The girl in question was Sienna Milan, one of the two girls she had left to talk with the day before, and decided to accompany during the night. Sienna had brought to Beacon a reputation of being the prettiest girl in Signal, and so far as could be told, she had continued that pattern here at Beacon. Only a few inches shorter than Violet, she was slim, with light brown hair, light green eyes, and skin which carried that slight tan more characteristic of Vacuo than Vale.

"Enjoying the show?" she asked, indicating the departing pair.

"Oh? No, not that. Just wondering why the rush." Violet asked. She reached into her bag, and pulled out her own jacket, which she carefully began to fit over her shirt.

"I would imagine grumpy realized she's running out of time for that ridiculous armor of hers." Sienna noted. Violet, too, took note of something; that if there was anyone in the school who had a simple attire, it was Sienna. Her combat outfit consisted of a simple, tan-colored robe, which fit her form well and flowed to just a short distance above her feet. The only addendum, besides some simple jewelry, was a white scarf she wrapped about her neck.

There conversation was interrupted by another voice, adding, in a rather insulting tone, "Not that it does her much good." This voice, as it was, belonged to the leader of this particular cluster of students; Braith Mette, the tall, almost aloof student whose every word the others seemed to attribute some level of expertise too. Personally, Violet didn't get it; in particular, she didn't understand the behavior of a few of the foreign students.

From the last few hours, Violet had learned a few things. The first: Braith, true to the words of Clancey and the others the day before, was a bitch. But what she had was a reputation, and a strong enough voice to keep people listening. Combined with Sienna, who was certainly the more vocal and, at least in Violet's opinion, more likeable of the two, they made a perfect combination for attracting other students.

Of course, people were people, and the two of them attracted a great deal of people. While she privately considered that she might enjoy the company more elsewhere, what Violet couldn't deny was how much she had learned from their gossiping and trash-talking. Most importantly, Sienna had, the day before, managed to worm out some rather useful information from one of the upperclassmen she had caught wandering about, regarding Initiation.

What the boy had said, or at least, what she claimed he had said, was as follows: "Well, every year, the incoming class is launched into the Emerald Forest to search after a collection of relics. It varies by year: sometimes its based on maps, sometimes its all in one place. There's a lot of Grimm trying to kill you, usually. But this year, I've heard they're doing something different. I'm not sure what it's going to be, but it doesn't sound like you'll be having it easy."

The group had, of course, immediately broken up into a complete mess upon that being said, as the girls and couple of boys who it was composed of attempted to figure out what the great, mysterious addition could be. One student, clearly from Mistral, appeared to be hoping for imported Grimm; another, from Atlas, seemed eager to fight mechs. Violet, for her part, was eager to see the former.

Throughout the discussion, Braith had remained mostly quiet, listening and occasionally glancing to her scroll. It took a while for her to announce her discovery: that an airship from Atlas had, apparently, appeared over Beacon a few weeks ago, and left something present. It was official, then, that mechs of some kind had been planted as enemies within the Emerald Forest.

Again, privately, Violet wondered if Sienna had contacted anyone at all, or if Braith had been reading anything off of her scroll. It was that affair, of course, which had convinced them that the two were not only clever, but quite intent on securing their own popularity, and apparent knowledge.

Violet's attention turned back to reality as Sienna quipped back, "Oh come on, it's not ridiculous. With a little work, it can even be made a thing of beauty."

"Please, do elaborate." Braith added, as she pulled on one of her boots. She, too, was lightly equipped; a short-sleeved gold shirt, with a grey vest over that, and a pair of black jeans, to match her boots. Her long hair was a dark red, almost approaching brown, and she had both dark eyes, and an almost constant frown. There was a cut across her right cheek, though from what, Violet was unsure.

"Music, Braith. The chiming sound of it vibrating, upon striking the hard ground. It's much like a bell, wouldn't you agree?"

To her credit, Sienna never seemed to laugh at her own jokes; instead, she left that job to the peanut gallery. Violet allowed herself to join in a little; after all, this was the girl who had instigated a fight with her out of the blue yesterday. Privately, she wondered if being a Huntress had a secret requirement of being an unpleasant person; the only one so far she had met to the contrary appeared to be Alice. Perhaps that white-haired girl, Gwen?

Braith, too, rarely seemed to laugh; she would merely smile, and nod her head. "Yes, that sounds about right. Unfortunately, it's only mechs out there today, so she shouldn't have too hard of a time. Grimm, on the other hand?"

"I'm sure there will still be Grimm out there," Violet said, with a hint of hopeful enthusiasm in her voice. "I mean, it's not like they cleared out the whole forest or anything."

Braith nodded to that, as well. Sienna gave a somewhat wary glance, which Violet only barely caught; it was the same look she recognized from her own mother, whenever Violet would comment on something during company meetings; meetings which she had, in the past, once loved going to. She knew what it meant: that she was, not for the first time in the last two days, speaking out of her turn.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter what's out there: all that matters is defeating it. Or, at least, capturing those relics."

"I wonder how they're going to select partners..." Violet mused, again giving vocalization to her thoughts. This time, there was no answer to be given.

One of the other students piped up, "I heard it was random selection. Like, they randomly pick people at the end, and you get put in teams."

"What if they're just selecting us base on who we work with?" another asked.

As the group began to move away, Braith raised her hand, indicating for everything to slow down. A few final words were exchanged, before everyone had finally turned, and she announced, "It's bound to be different every year. We can only hope that merit, to some degree, is a factor in the selection process."

There was a great deal of nodding, as those assembled students in the group all came to an agreement. It suddenly struck Violet: there were seven people here, all formed into this one student group. Seven Hunters and Huntresses in training; the best of the best, capable of single-handedly fending off monsters a dozen normal men would flee from, and yet all just as easily drawn about and led by another student as a regular crowd might be by any good speaker.

Sienna checked her scroll and, with eyes wide, immediately scooted over to Braith. She indicated something which Violet could not see; however, based on how wide Braith's eyes went, it wasn't something small. The red-haired girl stood at once, composed herself, and said, "Alright, we'd all better get moving. It's only a few hours until Initiation, and nobody wants to go out into the Emerald Forest on an empty stomach."

With an uncharacteristic speed to her step, Braith grabbed her pack and headed off. The rest scrambled to get their stuff in order, with Sienna being quicker than most. In this particular case, Violet, had already bagged her equipment, was the first one to follow.

As they went through the hallways, she asked, "So why the story about the upperclassman?"

"What?" Braith replied, a look of confusion on her face. Then, after a moment, she realized what Violet had said, and gave a quick nod. "Ah, yes, that. Good catch. Most of them don't catch on to things. They just listen. Stories like those are good because they make you seem well-connected. More knowledgeable than others."

Sound enough reasoning, Violet supposed. However, it failed to answer her main concern: "Then why not just claim you had found out? Why have an upperclassman at all?"

"It's not completely falsified. Sienna _did_ meet an upperclassman, but it wasn't here at Beacon. It was back down in Vale, a few weeks back. Though to be more exact, he'll be our senior for only a few hours longer: he failed his Initiation, and barely survived it at that. It took only a couple visits for Sienna to learn everything about the process, to her credit. She's always been good at getting bitter people talking."

"And the mechs?"

"My parents run a shipping company. I've known about the shipment for some time. The only thing I'm uncertain of is how many, or what types. It could be some of those creepy humanoid ones. It might even be spider droids. Point is, it's not just Grimm out there."

"So have you fought a lot of Grimm before, then?"

Braith stopped, turned, and put her hand on Violet – not aggressively, but definitely firmly, and enough to stop her in place. "Just a minute. You understand, you can't go off telling everyone what we just said, right?"

Her stare was like death, and for the first time since fighting that Beowulf, Violet felt a tinge of fear crawling up her spine. More than that, in fact; while she knew that the Beowulf was something she could defeat, she knew nothing about this other student. It took a few moments for the words to come to her; taking care not to drop her gaze, she replied, "Oh, of course not."

"That's good. That's _really_ good." Braith replied, giving a heavy pat. She took a step back, then turned, and resumed her walking. Violet began to follow.

"Now, to answer your question, Violet," she continued – and this, Violet noted, was the first time she had heard Braith address anyone other than Sienna by their given name – "Yes, I've seen Grimm. At Signal, we have a fair number of professors where former Hunters. They would often take some of the top students out on hunts. Sienna and I were, naturally, some of the most common."

"Who were the others?"

"Well –"

From there, Braith began to describe some of the other "good" students from Signal. There was, first of all, Clancey; the same boy Violet had met the day prior. By Braith's own admission as top of the class, he was the best mathematician and strategist of the school, and better than her in those categories; where he suffered, she added, was a semblance which was "completely useless" against humans, a weapon far more advanced than its owner, and a reputation for stubbornness which made it impossible for the two of them to manage in a group project.

On the opposite hand, there were his friends. Alice, likely the best swordsman Signal had ever graduated; Odhran, by all appearances useless in a fight, but deceptively clever and quite good at evading attacks; and Alan, not exactly the brightest member of the class, but rather charming, and very strong.

Braith listed off a few others, along with making a passing mention of a girl named Arlette who had, apparently, gone off to another school. With a note of finality, she added a girl named Gwen to the list; lazy, a slacker, and barely capable of passing Beacon's academic requirements... yet at the same time, a blur on the battlefield, and always able to keep up with the top members of the class.

Violet noted, though, that one name was missing. "And what about Susana?"

"We don't talk about that one." Braith said, a flash of anger in her voice. "But I will say this: she shouldn't piss off the wrong people. That's where she made her mistake."

"You know, it really seems like there's a lot of people just fighting each other around here." Violet noted. Personally, she disliked it; weren't there Grimm in the world to deal with? Actual, physical threats, instead of personal drama?

Braith clearly didn't feel the same way. "That's why we're at Beacon. Fighting is what we're good at."

Violet, for her part, disagreed.

Not long after, Sienna, followed by a throng of others, caught up with the two. It took only a few moments for Violet to find herself pushed out of the conversation, and back into the primary mass. She sat mostly quiet amidst the gossip, contemplating what had been said. It wasn't until Braith left to use the restroom that Sienna turned to her, and said, "You've gotten quiet."

"Just thinking on some things she said." Violet replied. Before she could say any more, Sienna grasped her shoulder, and turned Violet towards her. In a whisper, she said:

"Listen to me – and listen really good, because I am giving you your one good chance. I've seen the girls like you before. They seem nice, seem willing to help out, to play along. Thankfully for you, it's only the second day, and you've been fairly careful not to call up too much attention. But don't for one moment think that you should ever do more, because if you do, you'll wind up in a position just like Susana: another social outcast, shunned by the powers that be."

"Excuse me?" Violet asked, caught off guard by Sienna's bluntness. More so, though, she was amazed by the accompanying face; a face not of anger or threats, but of some degree of concern.

"There's a pecking order here, and you're a good candidate to take third around here. But you still need to earn that, and until you do, you'll need to worm your way in. People don't know you. They've never seen you."

"I suppose you're right, but what does that have to do with anything?" Violet asked, gently. "This a whole new school. Most people here don't know each other; a bunch are from other kingdoms!"

Sienna shook her head. "Doesn't matter. You think we're the only group gossiping? We're a small class. By now, everybody knows everything that everyone from Signal has ever done. That includes us, but it doesn't include you. You need to have a reputation."

"I'm sorry, but I _do_ have a reputation." Violet said, speaking a bit louder than she really wanted. She quieted herself down quickly, before too much attention could be garnered. The implication Sienna had provided struck her as more than a little offensive; after all, "My family is the largest privately-owned weapons producer in this whole kingdom. I've had plenty of recognition in just the last few days."

"Oh? And how much of it good, rich girl?" Sienna replied.

"Rich girl! You're hardly poor yourself!" Violet retorted, again straining to keep her voice down.

"It's called sarcasm. I'm not saying what _I'm_ think; I'm saying what _they're_ thinking. Trust me, I had the same exact thing when I first started by schooling. I earned this. Braith earned this. Now, we've got free reign of this place, and if you want in on that, you need to slow down."

"How?"

"First off, stop asking questions, or blurting into conversations. Second, even when you start one, you don't control it from there; you just participate when called upon. If you do that, everyone keeps to their lane, and everyone is happy. It's nice, simple, and very easy."

Violet stared past her as she talked, considering what Sienna was saying. It all made sense, and seemed fairly accurate; honestly, it sounded a lot like some of the tips her mother had given her, regarding dealing with people in business. Still, the point stood: she wasn't just another girl. She had connections, and she didn't just stay in her lane. No, she intended to give a piece of her mind...

"You understand?"

"Listen, Sienna, I understand you perfectly. And I thank you for showing concern. But -

"You!"

Before Violet could finish what she was going to say, another voice interrupted; a loud, boisterous tone which could belong only to one person. Susana stepped up to the table, her arms crossed and a look of smug satisfaction across her face. It was a well-earned one too; as she looked at Violet, she gave careful consideration to the fact that this was exactly what she had expected. The rich kids flocking to each other, as they always would.

"I knew there was something I didn't like about you from the start," Susana said. "And it looks like I was right. First you go tripping people, and now you're spending time with this horde of sycophants.

Violet was distraught. Was there anything in the world that would stop this girl from coming after her for things? She stood to rise up, but Sienna put her hand on her shoulder, and did so instead. "Susana, don't you have virtually anything better to do. Weapons training, maybe? Last I heard, you were having some problems sparring."

Susana gritted her teeth, knowing full well what Sienna was trying to do. Her mind raced with rebuttals, the one at the forefront being lunging across the table and slapping the smug mage across her face. In spite of the temptation, Susana restrained herself, and merely clenched one of her fists, before replying, "Actually, I'm doing just fine. Oh, and by the way Sienna, I was talking to Monzo the other day. You know, your old_ friend_ who _dropped out _last year? Man, considering how much you complained about the low standards for classwork, I'd have thought yours would have been a lot higher."

Both Violet and Susana caught sight of Sienna's fists clenching, as the room about them suddenly began to grow quite a bit warmer; Violet, hoping to avoid any conflict, glanced about in worry; Susana, happy to see her ploy working, had a wicked grin upon her face.

"Then again, I suppose the keyword is _low._ After all, you are quite adept at going down, aren't you?"

Violet stood up quickly and grasped Sienna by her arm as the girl lunged forward; she yelped out in pain, as she realized that her breakfast partner had suddenly flared up to an impossibly high body temperature. In spite of this, her efforts hadn't been in vain; as quickly as Sienna had prepared to lunge, she suddenly backed off, and began to cool down.

"And yet, I've never seen her go down on her knees." came the addition, as Braith returned to the table, coming from the side with a cool air about her. "Armor, singing. Head, ringing. Lips quivering, just _begging _to cry out for it to end, but too proud to say so."

Sienna and Violet were both forgotten completely in that moment, as Susana turned to face her own rival. Her mind flashed back to the duel the year prior; the public humiliation; the pain of the moment, and the long-term embarrassment which had followed. One of these days, she vowed, she would find some way to get back at her for that; even if it was years from now.

Violet tried to say something, but Sienna pulled her back, and whispered,_ "Stay in your lane."_ While she did so, for the moment at least, Violet felt a sick wrenching in her stomach; she hated watching everyone fight, but she knew that if she had been virtually anywhere else in this huge cafeteria, this entire conflict could have been avoided.

"You talk tough with all of these people standing about you." Susana said. She knew that it didn't matter how many people were there. "And it's not about you, anyways." Of course, it was.

With an eery accuracy, Braith echoed back Susana's private thoughts. "But that's where you're wrong, Susana. I could be standing here, all by myself, and saying these exact same things. Nobody needs to get involved, after all. And what's more? It _is_ about me. I'm _always_ the reason, when it comes to you. It's somewhat unhealthy, you realize? Like a nice punch to the stomach."

Before anyone could blink, Braith delivered a rapid jab to Susana's stomach; at the moment both unarmored, and mostly unprotected by aura. Were it nearly any other student, they would have collapsed immediately; but Susana had already prepared for his, and with a great effort to overcome the pain, gave a swing of her own, clocking her more popular adversary across the face.

It was all the span of a few seconds, and promised to be something more; Violet, however, moved quickly, extend her arm. Sienna reached out, trying to pull her back; Violet ignored her, and ripped a line with her finger down the space between the two combatants. There was a shudder, and a horrifying sound which resonated across the cafeteria. Both backed away as a rift suddenly tore its way through the space between them.

There was a moment of sheer emotion at that table. For most, it was one of shock; for Violet, it was one of desperation, and sudden horror as she realized how much attention she had drawn in... followed by a sickening mixture of glee and pride, at that very same thing. The rift immediately began to seal itself, and Susana backed off, giving a few dirty looks. Braith continued to stare after her for some time, but managed to nevertheless be the first to regain her composure; silently, she sat down at the table, and continued to eat.

Sienna stared at Violet for a while, her eyes widened. She shook her head a few times, before sitting down as well. The entire table was silent. While she had managed to avert another fight, Violet nevertheless couldn't help but feel she might not have made the wisest move.

Some distance away, Clancey stood, his attention finally turned from the affair as he swiped the trash from his tray into one of the bins. Behind him was the rest of the group; Odhran, Alan, Alice, and the newcomer, Neven. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate _not_ being caught up in the drama for once." he said, as he finally set the tray down on the table adjoining the bin.

"I wouldn't be so quick to say that, love." Alice replied, being the next one to do the same. "The day is still young, and Initiation awaits us soon enough. More than enough time for us to be caught up in something _much_ more dangerous than Grimm."

"You know," Neven said, thinking back to his time in Vacuo, "My parents were always telling me about the Grimm, when I was younger. More so, after I announced I wanted to become a Huntsman. One of the things they always used to repeat was the power of negative emotion."

"Negative emotion?" Odhran scoffed, deftly swiping the entire tray clean with a swipe of his hand. "What, like crying? What's that have to do with the Grimm."

"Everything, actually." Clancey replied; he was familiar with what Neven was referring to. Once, during a long night camping, Arlette had brought a large book about the Grimm; the two had spent hours up at night, reading over the pages, and trying to think up scary stories to haunt the other campers with. "Neven, you were saying?"

"Oh. Yes. As I was saying, the Grimm... well, as we all know, they're not like normal animals. They're bigger, stronger, and tougher. Well, except animals we unlock the aura on, but that's completely different. Anyways, a lot of people think it's just a matter of appearances, and rapidly decaying upon death. But the Creatures of Grimm, they're not like normal creatures, which feed on flesh. They just do that because. No, what they feed on is negative emotions: rage, envy, and of course, prostration, as you mentioned."

"Prostration? Odhran never said anything about paying for sex." Alan replied, a confused look on his face.

"Never change, Alan." Clancey replied, patting his friend on the back. Indeed, while he did often feel like his more intellectual conversations flew over his friends head, he nevertheless greatly appreciated his presence.

Neven, attempting to be as polite as possible, found it a difficult struggle to hold back laughing at what had just been said. He realized, of course, that he had brought that upon himself; after all, application of the thesaurus to daily life tended to convey such reactions. He added, "Eh, I guess _sadness _is the better choice of word. Sorry. But I guess the point I'm trying to make is, when we're fighting with each other, we're just creating more negative emotions. For every Grimm we slay, we're feeding a dozen others."

"Fight or not, there will always be negativity." Alice replied. "For after all, if we did not have it, how would the positive times be special? The two are intertwined, just as us and the Grimm."

"That's what my parents used to say." he said, nodding. "There's a little darkness and a little light in all of us. The Grimm are nothing but the darkness; and so we must be the light to face them. I just wish there was a way to push that last darkness out."

"If we did not have darkness," Alice argued. "There would be no way to understand it. It is understanding and mastering both that we know to fight the Grimm, and that we stand against them. Picture this: if the Grimm despise us for the light within, then what would prevent a creature of pure light from doing the same? Would it not resent us for our sadness; our imperfections and flaws?"

"That's... I guess I never thought of it that way." Neven replied, nervously scratching his neck. He thought back to Vacuo, and how often he attempted to discuss these things with his classmates; yet nearly all of the time, his friends would be more interested in other, less philosophical matters. Over the last sixteen hours, he had been amazed to find that not only was Alice one of the most thoughtful people he had ever talked to, but that Clancey, and even Alan when the subject was delivered in the right manner, were also quite well versed in these topics.

"_Maybe not Odhran so much..."_ he thought to himself, as the other boy shook his head.

"Does it matter?" Odhran asked. "We fight the Grimm, we kill the Grimm, and the Grimm don't kill other people. If you think about it too hard, you might stumble upon something you don't like. Then you won't be able to kill so good."

"Or perhaps we're wondering why we're fighting in the first place?" Clancey asked. "Think back to our military history class, back in junior year. In every conflict, those in power have pushed the exact same thoughts you're echoing. But we're not just soldiers; that's why this is a school, and not just a combat academy."

Clancey had pondered that last note quite frequently. Why should a combat school teach classes on literature, or on music? Shouldn't it just be about _combat_? The answer to that question, he recalled, had evaded him for some time; it wasn't until about a year back when, while reading an essay written by Professor Ozpin himself, that he had realized why: to encourage individuality. To ensure that each and every person could define themselves in their own manner.

And so they did. Beacon had students clad in every color, every possible piece of attire. Each carried weapons they had built personally; customized to their own preferences, their own passions, and their own personal style.

It was for this reason, he learned, that Beacon was so popular. While the other schools all carried similar academic programs, the degree of freedom at Beacon was unprecedented among which classes could be taken, and the sheer number of extracurricular activities. As a result, the school had become the most demanding of the major academies, and therefore held the greatest capacity for selectivity.

Something told him that Ozpin wasn't thinking about student enrollment when he made that decision, though. While Clancey supposed that nothing was impossible, it just didn't strike him, after having read both that essay and other pieces attributed to the Headmaster, that such a thought had even occurred to him. That, Clancey thought, was something to respect.

"It's all just an illusion, Clancey," Odhran replied, raising his hands high in the air. "You see this? All of this?" He began to pace about, drawing attention from a few other students watching. After a moment, he simply sighed, and dropped his arms. Sighing, he said, "You know, it's only the second day. It's not worth it right now. This? This is a discussion for another time. For now, let's just kill some Grimm."

"Huzzah to that!" cried Alan, toasting with some invisible mug. "This will be the first time since Signal I'll actually get a chance to smash something in."

"If we're lucky, there shouldn't be too much resistance in the forest." Neven said. As much as he enjoyed fighting the Grimm, he still hadn't learned much about the species native to this area of Remnant; he knew that Beowolves were smaller and faster, that Ursa were bigger and tougher, and that Nevermore could fly and shoot feathers at you. But how big, how fast, and so on? He had no idea. He was also vaguely aware that other Grimm haunted the region, and the name 'King Taijitu' hovered somewhere in the back of his mind. He was fairly certain of two things, though: one, that it was a giant crocodile; two, that crocodiles didn't live in forests. Regardless of habitats, what was a sure fact, was that he would greatly out of his element today; the less fighting, the better.

Of course, Alan and Odhran only laughed at that. The former commented that, "Neven, you and I have a very different idea of luck. The more resistance we have, the more fun today will be."

"I suppose." Neven replied, with a bit of a nervous chuckle. "I guess I'm just not as big on the fighting part, you know?"

"One is wise to fight only when absolutely necessary, love." Alice said, though whether it was more towards Neven or towards Alan was anybody's guess. She turned her attention to Clancey, and said, "I do believe that is one of your many proverbs, yes?"

He nodded. The words weren't exact, of course, but he also doubted that a badly translated copy of some two-hundred years-dead general's writings were exactly word-for-word, either. "One of them. Though that same text also has words of wisdom regarding being outnumbered, and we've somehow managed to keep outlasting the Grimm."

"Soon enough, they'll be outlasting us!" announced Alan, triumphantly.

On that note, the group soon departed, and made their way back to the locker room. Clancey was quick to fully outfit himself in his full armor, and to withdraw his weapon. Stadredder, it was called; a perfect hybrid of a long-distance rifle, claymore, and dual-pronged spear, with the proper mechanisms to incorporate dust rounds of all kinds. His objective in developing it was to create a versatile weapon which could serve him well against any foe, in any environment; of course, where that strategy collapsed, was that he knew full well that he had mastered none of the component weapons, and still had only a limited control over Dust.

As he outfitted himself in all of the requisite bags and gear, he glanced across the way to see Alice practicing with her weapon; the long, thin blade which she moved elegantly in her hand. Though Clancey knew it possessed a foldable frame, he had yet to see the weapon employed at range; no, Alice, along with Odhran and (to a less extreme extent) Alan, had gone the path of specialization.

It certainly payed off in duels. If there was one thing he was sure of, the only reason he could still take the other two boys was by virtue of being a much better thinker; against quicker-witted individuals like Alice, Gwen, and even Susana, he could never keep up. But then, what was the point in winning a duel if you were a Huntsman? Wasn't it about defeating the Grimm?

The familiar feeling of his aura flashing tingled down Clancey's spine; instantly, he turned into a roll, barely ducking out of the way of a huge hammer, which swung down past where he was and into the ground, leaving a large crater. He stood quickly and brushed himself off, giving a disgusted look to Alan, who stood there with a look of glee as he examined the mark he had left in the ground.

Of course, calling that brute of a weapon a hammer wouldn't exactly be completely accurate. It was, in form and function, more akin to its namesake:

"Tenderizer here isn't so happy about what you said about her yesterday," Alan declared, hefting the large hammer back into his hands. "Something about me not taking care of her? Well, it seems that she disagrees."

"Getting your weapon taken from you for damaging school property is hardly what I'd call taking care of her, Alan." Clancey stated, brushing off the last of the dust from his cloak. "So could you _please_ not do that?" His heart, he realized, was still beating a little quicker; when one felt a trembling in their soul, adrenaline was certainly to be expected.

"Relax! Just testing your reflexes." Alan replied with a shrug, as he flipped a small switch on his hammer, causing it to collapse into a smaller, more manageable form. Quickly, he swung it over his back.

Alice came over shortly after, followed by Odhran, and finally by Neven. Looking over Neven quickly, Clancey considered that his attire seemed quite unlike anything he had ever seen employed in battle; still, it had been him criticizing Susana about an over-use of armor the day before

"It would appear we're all here." Alan noted, giving one last pat to his weapon to ensure it was there.

"So we are. Come on, let's get moving." Clancey said, giving a wave of his hand as he turned back down and out of the locker room, and towards the assigned meeting point on the Beacon Cliffs. To his surprise, as he came out of the hallway, he found them facing Braith; more surprising was that she was accompanied only by Sienna and, of all people, Violet.

"Braith." he said with a nod.

"Clancey." she replied, barely turning to notice. Sienna, too, seemed completely unconcerned.

Violet, on the other hand, was clearly not; while she was holding her mouth closed, her widened eyes betrayed a clear sense of worry. Still, upon seeing the group, she began to smile; thus, Clancey asked her, "Enjoying your second day so far?"

"Well, it's definitely not boring." she replied, in a falsely optimistic tone. Clancey could read exactly what she was thinking; that sometimes, boring can be the preferable option.

It most certainly was. After a few minutes of quiet breakfast, Braith announced that she would be staying behind with Sienna and Violet, and that she would meet up with everyone at the Cliffs. The rest of the students left soon after, and headed off as a group to get their equipment; more than a few, no doubt, had already left. Their conversation, then, had been as follows:

"What type of semblance was that?" Sienna asked, in a heated tone.

"That part's obvious enough, Sienna," Braith said, her voice cool, and her eyes much harder. "You act like this is the first person we've seen employing spacial manipulation."

"Spacial distortion, actually." Violet replied. She thought back to her time in early training, when she first learned about aura and semblance. While every person had a unique semblance, setting them apart from all others, every form of semblance could be traced back to one of a few root categories.

In truth, Violet didn't know much about her semblance; while she had some capacity to use it, it always left her with an uncomfortable feeling in her gut when she used it. Indeed, as he behavior of the others with her had demonstrated, she often found she wasn't the only one. Perhaps it was that terrible, screeching sound of reality tearing? Perhaps something else entirely? It was situations like this which revealed the greatest weakness of unique semblances: that nobody could train you on everything. You had to learn and practice on your own.

What she did know, however, was that there was a distinct categorization difference between the two. _"When I get a chance,"_ she thought. _"I'll have to look into that more."_

"So it is. But that's not really the point, is it?" she continued on.

Violet shook her head, and said, "Look, I already know what you're going to say. I'm sorry for making a bigger scene out of that, but what I'm not sorry for is doing it. Since I've gotten here, that's the second fight I've gotten caught up in, with the same person. Clancey came in and cleaned up the last one peacefully, but I have a distinct feeling that neither your or Susana intended to get diplomatic. And-"

She stopped then, suddenly coming to the realization of both how quickly she was beginning to talk, and how loudly. It wasn't as if it really mattered; they were the only people, other than the cleaning staff, and a few students who were lounging about in full gear on the opposite side of the room.

Braith nodded. "I appreciate that, Violet. More than you realize. But there is a time and place for everything. You've already been involved in two incidents with her? Then mark my words – there will be a third. This was the time and place for settling things. For insuring everyone knows their place. You made the choice to avoid that, and soon enough, there will be a fallout."

She stood up, with Sienna doing so almost in perfect sync. "Come. Let's get our gear. But more than that, I have something to tell both of you. We'll do it once we're there."

The three departed; so, then, did Violet come to be standing here, with Clancey still smiling as he said, "Well, I suppose we all need a little extra excitement. I'll be seeing you at the Cliffs, then."

"Alright. Oh, and good luck!" she replied, giving a curt wave of the hand before moving on. Clancey and the others departed, heading off down the hall towards the cliffs; Violet quickly caught up with Braith and Sienna, who moved about halfway down two rows of lockers.

"Violet, what's the number on your scroll?" Braith asked, as she pulled out hers.

"71-41-51-2," she replied, naming off the numbers in the same sing-song pattern she had initially learned it in. For whatever reason, a good tune always made it easier to memorize something.

Just as quickly as Violet named them off, Braith had them all put in. "Look out for a message while you're there. You'll know what the message means when you get it."

"What for?" Violet asked. Sparing a glance to Sienna, and noticed that even she was visibly confused, her brow raised.

"You choose your partner out in the woods." she replied. "I'm not sure what their method of team selection is. It may even change every year. But what I'm certain of is that today, we select teams."

"That's fairly clear." Sienna blurted out, apparently unwilling to keep her questions back any longer. She took a quick moment to readjust her manner, before continuing. "They've been running things not much differently than our initiation into Signal, and they don't have much of a choice other than getting us teamed up now if they want us in our dorms. Yet why do you think we get a choice regarding our partner? And how do we take advantage of knowing something we don't actually know?"

Violet already knew what Braith was going to say. "You hope to figure it out while in the forest, don't you."

"Not an eloquent way to put it. But yes." she replied. "Most likely? The selection process is explained before we leave. From there? Get a good partner. That's your goal, Violet."

She spared a grin, perhaps the largest Violet had seen over the last two days, to Sienna. "After all, I've already had one for some time yet."

"We can hope." Sienna replied, nodding.

"Grab your equipment. We have little time left."

There was a feeling of relief in Violet as she withdrew her rifle from the locker, strapping the large weapon over her back. Looking over her equipment, she decided to strap on an additional satchel, and placed a few extra clips of ammunition within. Whether mechs or Grimm, she knew that whatever was out in the forest, it wouldn't be coming alone.

She considered some of her pouches of dust, but thought better of it. There would be greater dangers later in the year, and expending too much dust on Initiation seemed like something which would come back to bite, later. Then, again, later would only come if she wound up overwhelmed by monsters in the forests...

With a little hesitation, she grabbed a small, red bag, and tied it on. Deciding she was fully outfitted, she shut closed the locker door and headed back to the central area. She turned, and watched as Susana and Gwen turned down the hallway, fully outfitted. Susana never saw her; Gwen, however, caught a glimpse, and turned to look at her. Without a word, she raised her hand a gave Violet a thumbs up, before continuing on her way out.

Susana turned to see why Gwen was lagging, and asked, "What are you doing back there?"

"Just congratulating a person for sanity." the white-haired girl replied, raising her arms and pulling them behind her back into a stretch. As she walked, she added, "Not much of it today."

"It's just us, Gwen." Susana replied. "And maybe a few others. But certainly not very many!"

"Minus one from that equation." Gwen replied, in a bland tone which matched the dull smile on her face. Susana flashed a rude gesture, being less amused than her friend at that statement. First the rush of the morning, then the incident at lunch, and through it all, fretting over how Initiation itself would work. At this point, she was more than done.

She began to speak, but before she could do so, a buzzing rang from the ceiling. The speakers flared to life, and the voice of Glynda Goodwitch stated: "All remaining students, please report to the Beacon Cliffs for Initiation. Thank you."

Just as quickly as those words had been said, Susana waved Gwen along, saying, "Come on, you heard what she said. _Remaining _students. We're going to be late."

"We're going to be just fine, Sue." Gwen replied, not increasing her pace any further. "You need to relax."

"Dammit, Gwen, how can you be relaxed at all? In just a few hours, we'll have had our entire lives for the next four years dictated for us based on what we do. Every minute we take, and every impression we make out there, is precious. Why can't you see that?"

"I can. So I'm doing exactly what I usually do, just as you're doing exactly what you usually do. If you can't be who you are, you're not going to be judged for who you are."

She set her arms down, and pulled out her knife. As normal, she deftly moved it about between her fingers without a single cut. "Why spend the next four years living in some kind of illusion?"

Susana considered that for a moment. It still irritated her that Gwen could be so nonchalant about the whole affair. But when she thought about it, she realized that what her friend was saying was true – that both of them were simply acting as they always had. Irrational thoughts began worming their way about, screaming that it was no excuse to let one's guard down; that today, of all days, was one for perfect focus. That perfect focus, however, revealed its wisdom: to relax. To listen to her friend.

Her mouth was much quicker than her mind. "It's not an illusion, it's just setting a standard. We're going to be Huntresses, Gwen. That means acting like one."

"And what does a Huntress act like?"

She didn't answer that. For now, she didn't even think about it. Instead, Susana kept walking, leading the way out to the Cliffs, where fate, and the rest of their class, awaited them.

* * *

**A/N:** **I hate when I'm wrong. Chapter finally completed and posted. Should be able to start getting timely updates. No promises. Can't believe this wound up so long. Can't believe some writers put these things out once a week. You should go read their fanfics; they're a lotter better at this than I am.**


End file.
